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sugarandspisces-writes · 18 hours

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Coffee + Crosswords

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: It's Friday at Abbott and you spend a slow morning in the break room with Melissa and Janine.

Word Count: 3.3k

If you were to ask anyone at Abbott what their favorite day of the week was, they were guaranteed to say Friday. Unless you were to ask Barbara Howard. She would not hesitate to tell you that her favorite day was Sunday. Nonetheless, Friday was a day that everyone enjoyed because it meant the weekend was around the corner.

It was a day when things slowed down, and you could step away from the week's stressors and just breathe. Plus, if you were on top of things, you didn’t have to worry about grading papers or making lesson plans for a couple days. But you knew better than anyone that it didn’t always work out that way. Sometimes you still had work left to complete on the weekends no matter how productive you’d been at work.

The students also loved Fridays because learning for the week was done. The biggest task they had to accomplish was showing that they understood the material being taught. Your second graders loved the end of the week because they looked forward to taking their spelling tests. However, today was not about taking tests. The end of the first semester was approaching, and most teachers were counting down the days. It seemed like a lifetime away, and everyone was looking for a way to make the time go by faster. The strategy beloved by the kids, and their teachers if you were being honest, was to have a movie day. For you, there was something nostalgic about watching movies at school. It made you miss the days you were in your kids’ shoes.

It was around 10 o’clock, and you sat in the teacher’s lounge while your kids attended art class. Melissa was in the lounge with you since it was her free period, and you knew Janine was bound to show up at any moment since it was her break as well. You sat at the table near Melissa’s and talked about the events of your day.

You’d been teaching alongside the woman for over a year, yet you struggled to find your footing around her. One moment she seemed to enjoy your company, and the next she didn’t pay you any mind. However, she was up for discussion today, and the content of your conversation surprised you. She was following up on an issue you’d brought to her attention a few weeks back.

“Did you ever get that stuff figured out with your student?” She pulled her eyes away from the TV and focused on you.

“Oh, um, kind of.” Truthfully the answer was no, but you'd been holding onto hope.

Parent-teacher conferences recently took place, and you spoke with the parents of a student who struggled with math. Despite the effort you’d put into gathering the evidence–worksheets, quizzes, and even standardized test scores–they didn’t believe their child was struggling. Since Melissa had gone through a similar situation, you asked for advice.

Her face scrunched in confusion at your uncertainty. “What's that s'posed to mean?”

“Well, they’re still not budging, so…” You shrugged before slumping into your chair.

“So, what?” Melissa’s shoulders copied your actions, though hers were more pronounced. Her jacket rustled with the movement, the silver hardware clanking against each other. “You just gonna give up?”

Immediately, your posture straightened at the insinuation of admitting defeat. “What? No, I never said that!”

She wasn’t fond of quitters, so your reaction rubbed her the wrong way. “You coulda fooled me.”

Everything you tried had seemingly failed, and as a new teacher, that was discouraging. You’d never give up on your students though, so you had to see it through. “I’m in the process of putting a plan together.”

“Did you get in touch with the math interventionist?” That was one of her recommendations, and she wanted to know if you followed through.

“Yes, and they’re gonna work with him during the summer. You know they have an outreach program for the kids, but it depends on his parents' compliance. They're not gonna let anyone work with him if they don't see an issue.” She nodded in understanding, prompting you to continue on. “If not, they told me they'd work with him at the beginning of next year so he wouldn't slip too far behind, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” Since the district was short-staffed, the schools had to share resources. It was extremely inconvenient, but you had to make do with what you had.

She was pleased that you took her advice and that she wasn't just flapping her gums for the hell of it. “At least that’s something. It shows they're trying, you know?”

You sighed, upset at the fact that you were still at odds. “I guess, but I feel so bad. He’s having a really hard time, and he gets so frustrated with it. I’m afraid he’ll just give up. Especially since his parents aren’t on the same page.”

She agreed with the point you were making. “There's potential for that to occur, but it’s not a reflection of your teaching abilities.”

“It is though, isn’t it?” It was your responsibility to educate, so wouldn’t the blame rest on you?

“Not necessarily. We do what we can, but we aren’t always capable of filling in the gaps. Sometimes we have to recruit additional forces. It doesn’t make us failures 'cause we couldn’t do it on our own.”

You worked hard to ensure that your students were motivated to learn. If they ever lost their drive, you wouldn’t hesitate to help them regain it–even if it meant you had to spend time with them before or after school. Melissa’s words helped you realize that your setback didn’t stem from a lack of proficiency. “You’re right. It just sucks.”

“When have you known me to be wrong?” She smirked.

“Oh, whatever.” You rolled your eyes, still finding yourself laughing nonetheless.

“But seriously, it’s nothing you can’t handle. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

You had no idea she noticed your teaching endeavors, though you should have known. She kept tabs on just about everyone and everything in your place of work. “Oh, wow. Uh, thanks.” You weren't sure what to say, not knowing if it was a compliment or simply an astute observation.

“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing. He’s lucky to have someone like you fighting for him.”

You smiled now, basking in the unmistakable praise. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’m gonna make another cup of coffee. You want some?” She stood from her seat, eyeing you as she awaited your answer.

“Nah, I'm good.” You shook your head, remembering that it wasn’t even noon and you’d already indulged in a few.

You absentmindedly scrolled through your phone as she busied herself with brewing a fresh pot. There wasn’t much to look at, so you opened the newspaper before you. You flipped through the pages, skimming some of the articles, then landed on the crossword section.

You’d been into word games lately, mostly playing apps on your phone, but you'd take advantage of the physical version today. Until Janine joined you two this would occupy your time. By the time the coffee was done brewing, you’d finished most of the puzzle but found yourself stuck.

“Blank Hurts, quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles.” You read it more times than you could count before releasing a huff. It was the last answer you needed to complete the puzzle, and it was putting you through the wringer.

Melissa came to retrieve her creamer from the fridge and caught a glimpse of what you were doing. She squinted to get a closer look at the small print before pulling her glasses over her eyes. As soon as she read it, the answer was clear. She could only chuckle while watching you struggle. You were a Philly native, so to her, it was amusing that you didn’t know the players on your home team. When your huffing and puffing continued, she couldn’t bear the sound any longer.

“Jalen.” She uttered from behind you, solving your short-lived distress.

You glanced over your shoulder and met with the sight of her—arms crossed over her chest, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and a grin tugging at her lips.

“Huh?”

Her heeled boots thumped against the linoleum flooring as she came into your direct line of vision. It wasn’t long before she stood next to you, mere centimeters away.

When she spoke again, her manicured finger was pointed at your phone. “Jalen Hurts. That’s the answer.”

You almost couldn’t process the words she spoke. Your senses were taken over by her amber perfume, the sweet, warm undertones paired well with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. After gaining enough resolve to write, you jot letters into the spaces.

She retreated to the other side of the room before you could say anything else, but quickly returned with a surprise. She slid a steaming cup of coffee across the table, propelled by a gentle hand. “You’ve got to be the only person who doesn’t know who that is.”

You frowned, but it was impossible to argue with her. Football was the least interesting sport in your opinion. Mainly because you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. “We can’t all be connoisseurs like you.”

“It’s common knowledge, hon.”

“Okay, Vince Lombardi,” you teased, referring to the woman as one of the NFL greats. That much you knew. “Thanks for the answer–and the coffee.”

“You owe me, big time,” she joked. “I made it how I like mine. If you think it’s gross feel free to toss it.”

“Are you crazy? I’d never waste a cup of caffeine.” Especially one you made for me, you wanted to add, but didn't thanks to your better judgment.

You sipped the warm beverage as you thought about your little interaction. It took a minute or two for your brain to reset to its previous level of performance. The organ worked double time to get her out of your head, but she managed to make a lasting image.

She was a woman of details, always so well put together. The all-black outfit paired with her array of gold jewelry was a classy, yet powerful choice. Her makeup was done perfectly, and her green eyes were adorned with the sharpest winged liner you'd ever seen. Striking red hair followed suit, strands curled neatly with color-coordinated cat-eye frames resting atop her head, giving the impression of an effortless blowout. She had a certain je ne sais quoi about her that intrigued you to no end.

You glanced over your shoulder once you heard the door swinging open. Janine walked in and smiled as she saw you and Melissa. She waltzed over to the table and her skirt flowed graciously behind her with the movement.

“Hi, guys!” She greeted the two of you. “Guess who caught up on all their grading?”

You exchanged hellos and excitement for the teacher as she made her way to the fridge. When she rounded the table with her snack, she stood firmly beside you and playfully nudged your shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked as she began to eat.

“Nothing much,” you sighed, “I just finished this crossword.”

“Oh, you did the one on the paper! I always did that as a kid.” She shared, smiling at the memory. She knew you were on a crossword kick recently and that you completed multiple every day.

“There was a clue on there about football, which I know nothing about.”

“That makes both of us.” She laughed before sitting in the seat next to you. “I may know a little more than you, though. At least I know what the players look like.”

“I know what some of them look like!” And by some, you meant none, but Janine already knew that. “Melissa helped me though.” You nod your head toward the woman's direction.

Janine looked at you with a glint taking over her eye that only you could read. You knew she was making a mental note to ask about the interaction later when it was just you and her.

“Oh! Melissa.” Janine smiled as she said her name, elongating the ending. “Are you ready for game night?”

Janine had planned a bonding activity for the teachers, like she did occasionally, in hopes that it would help everyone destress from their busy schedules.

“I’m ready to kick all your butts. Again.” Melissa was undefeated in a few games and took pride in that.

“Someone’s cocky,” Janine glanced at you.

“Nuh uh,” she waved her finger around. “It’s called confidence. Maybe if youse had more of it, you’d be able to beat me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t play to win,” Janine stated with a satisfied smile. She always claimed that she was only there to have a good time, which in return received an eye roll from everyone.

“Yeah, that’s what all the losers say.” She moved her hand in a circle to emphasize the word ‘all’. She then stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find a movie for my kids to watch.”

As soon as she heard the door close, Janine turned to look at it for confirmation that Melissa was out of earshot. “So, Melissa helped you with your crossword, huh?”

“Oh my gosh, Janine.” You chuckled at her insinuation, noting the toothy smile she displayed. She had an inkling that Melissa liked you, but that was an overstatement.

“What?” She looked at you quizzically, though she knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“Yeah, so?” You shrugged nonchalantly, keeping eye contact with her. “She also gave me some more advice regarding the situation with my student.”

A look of "I told you so" crossed the woman's face. “Didn't I say it'd be a good idea to ask her? You should listen to me more often.”

“And she may or may not have made coffee for me.” You casually brought the mug to your lips, eyes closing at the pleasant taste. By some supernatural powers, she had made school coffee enjoyable.

The teacher gasped and her hand clutched your arm, startling you a bit. “Really? Oh my gosh!”

“Janine, please,” you pulled your arm from her grip. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Oh, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You know you love it.”

Though you tried to stave off your giddy expression, you cracked. “Must you have to read into everything?”

“Only the things that matter. Like how you're drinking out of her favorite mug.” She pointed at the cup, noting the teal and black ombré design.

“Now you're just making stuff up.”

“Are you kidding me? You cannot be this oblivious!” There was no way she was reading too deep into things.

“It's not oblivion. I'm just being logical.”

“How far has that gotten you?” A hand popped over her hip as she quirked an eyebrow toward you.

“Oh, hush.” You pouted.

During your time at Abbott, you and Janine developed a special relationship. You were a first-year teacher and Janine was in her second year, so you bonded over being new to the field. Teaching was hard for you to navigate in the very beginning. While Janine was still fairly new to teaching, she had learned a lot and grown tremendously in her first year. She was very resourceful and she shared a lot of her tips and tricks with you. Whenever you felt your insecurities getting the best of you, she would always be there to pick you up.

Because the two of you had become so close, she knew how you felt about Melissa. Janine was very attentive, and you couldn’t get anything past her. She could tell that being around Melissa made you nervous. It wasn’t because you were intimidated by her—you had gotten over that feeling within the first few months of working with her. You were drawn to her tough nature and how the energy shifted when she walked into a room. She was intelligent and had a great personality once you broke through her icy exterior.

Since the beginning of the year, all you wanted was to impress her, but every time you tried, you just embarrassed yourself. For a while, you weren’t sure why you cared so much. You didn’t know why what she thought mattered until you came to a conclusion halfway through the school year. It all mattered because you liked her. It was a strange thing to come to terms with, but you decided to let the feelings run their course. There was no harm in that, right?

“She's just in a good mood today. I’m 99% sure she sees me as the kid that teaches the same grade as her.”

“That’s not true,” Janine assured you, but she knew how Melissa could be. The woman had to warm up to you before she showed her true colors.

“It is and you know it.” You said affirmatively.

“She’ll come around.” She spoke as if she knew something you didn't.

You looked at her with doubtful eyes and you could see her facial expression change as she thought of an idea. Uh oh.

“I could put you and her on the same team tonight,” Janine said in a sing-songy voice. “Name a better way to get her to warm up to you.” She waited for you to answer, but you were heavily against this. Janine was the proud organizer of game night, which meant she was in charge of making the teams.

“I could actually think of several, much better ways.” You enlightened her. “She would eat me alive if we lost.” You were not competitive, and you knew winning was important to Melissa.

“Oh, come on, Y/N!” Janine practically whined. “It’ll be fine.”

“No.” You said firmly, standing from your chair as you noticed the time. You had to retrieve your kids from the art teacher in five minutes. Janine followed your lead and walked out of the lounge trailing behind you. You couldn’t even see her and you knew that she was sulking.

“Quit doing that.” You laughed, looking in the direction of the shorter woman. “It’s not gonna make me say 'yes'.”

“But–” She started but was cut off within seconds.

You whipped around to face her. “Remember what happened at the last game night? When you made her draw eight cards during Uno?”

Janine didn't answer though she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Don't worry, I’ll refresh your memory. She ended up losing and didn’t speak to you for weeks. Weeks! I can't risk that.”

Janine ended up getting the victory and despite that, it was not a good night for her. “It’s fine, now.” Granted, she wasn't sure if it was, but it seemed like it.

“No. I refuse to let her give me the cold shoulder because of you.” It wasn't even about the crush at this point. You worked closely with her and wanted nothing to compromise that. Besides, she could hold a grudge like her life depended on it.

“Fine, I won’t do it.” Janine relented, though it seriously pained her. She believed wholeheartedly that she could shift the dynamic between you and Melissa.

Though she was defeated, something told you she wasn’t letting go. “Thank you,” you said before heading in the opposite direction to pick up your class.

“But let me know if you change your mind!” She added as you walked away.

That statement alone made you less confident in her ability to leave it alone. Though she meant no harm, she was hopeless. You knew she'd be fighting tooth and nail not to go against her word. Of course, she wanted to honor your wishes, but once she was set on a plan there was no going back.

Sure, Fridays were a fan favorite, but something told you this one would be the death of you.

A/N: Hello, Hello! This is just a little something to start your week off right. It's been sitting in my drafts for a while and I wanted to get it out. Also, part two of Kiss It Better is on the way! Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #sugarᥫ᭡writes

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strqyr · 2 days

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thinking out loud here, but... now with all of the beyond episodes out, i'm starting to wonder if the goal is to actually return to vale for the final battle.

for one, the final battle of the great war that lead to peace happened in vacuo, exactly the kingdom everyone is in currently. that's where the preparations are happening, that's the kingdom that everyone is primed to defend. but what i also find interesting about the great war battle is that the king of vale arrived with what are very likely to be the sword of destruction and the crown of choice—exactly the relics salem currently doesn't have.

then there's 'boba' and the very on-the-nose way of pointing that tai is doing something important in vale / patch that prevents him from being in vacuo. and like. it's the crown, right. or specifically, the vault that houses the crown; the whole point of the academies was to house the vaults that house the relics so that they would be surrounded by people capable of defending the academies at all times. and if the vault isn't at beacon—which is likely because salem hasn't found it yet, and at haven cinder points out how that vault looks way cooler than the one in beacon so what's the extra effort for, and i get the feeling it's not so much that any extra effort has gone to haven's vault, but rather that beacon's "vault" isn't really a vault to begin with—then obviously ozpin wouldn't leave it completely unguarded, but it also must be done discreetly as to not give the game away; and that's where tai comes in.

and because they made it so apparent in 'boba', it doesn't sound like a thing that's going to get addressed once they're done in vacuo and are ready to move back to vale, it sounds like it's imminent, something teased for V10 if / when it happens.

the king of vale had the sword and the crown. the resistance in vacuo is still in possession of the sword so that's accounted for, but getting the crown is a trickier problem to solve (if they're going for "ozma's side has the crown and the sword (like the king of vale did) while salem has the lamp and the staff" angle here).

enter 'the adventures of somewhat'. somewhat, in their cloak reminiscent of ruby's, talks to the red prince, who still has the scar on his face.

the red prince's purpose is to win the game. cinder holds the key to their victory. the red prince has sent all his followers away. cinder no longer has emerald and mercury by her side.

the red prince promises to help somewhat in their task if they beat him in the game. his purpose is to win that game.

"that doesn't seem very fair. what if my purpose was to win, too?" "such is the way of our life." "what if it doesn't have to be? i'm still new here, but i've met loads of afterans and people that have grown and found new things to do, even without going to the tree."

what if they don't need to be enemies locked in a battle they both want to win. what if it could be different: "who knows, maybe you could teach others to win. speaking of, i won! i think? i'm sorry."

with this little, simple conversation, somewhat left a somewhat of a big impression on the prince; and while he didn't join somewhat to keep his promise of helping them (that we saw of), he also dropped the tree leaves he could use to ascend.

and there was one less wrong thing in the ever after.

cinder holds the key to salem's victory. could she hold it for someone else—"maybe you could teach others to win"? could ruby get a chance to talk to cinder in the same way somewhat did with the prince, leaving an impression that gets cinder to change her mind? what if they don't need to be two enemies, pawns on a board, locked in battle?

the red prince promised to help if somewhat beat him in the game. they did. and i think this is something that might just happen with ruby and cinder too, and that's how the vacuo resistance gets hold of the crown.

all they need is a small team to head to vale to retrieve it, return to vacuo, and the grand stage of the final battle of the great war is once again set.

#rwby #rwby beyond #rwby spoilers #no one talk to me i'm cooking 👨‍🍳

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tokyo-debunkers-headcanons · 2 days

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Vagastrom (+ Lucas my bbi 💖) and MC are absent-minded and forgetful

(I'm thinking about Leo's expression when MC forgot about their date 🙋🏻‍♀️)

This is me deadass lol! Thank you for sending in a request!

ALAN MIDO

Alan would be worried that something happened at first. He would get Sho to call MC and see if they were alright.

He wouldn't catch on until sometime later when they were at the garage and he asked them to grab him a tool that he left in the other room, while he worked on a car.

He would hear them walk away. He'd wait patiently, wondering if maybe they didn't know what the tool he asked for looked like. After a few minutes of silence he would slide out from under the car and find them doing something else. When they explained that they forgot as soon as they came into the room. It all clicked.

He'll actually be pretty patient with them. He understands what its like to not be the best at something (like him and tech) so he won't yell or get pissy when they forget something.

He'll drop a gentle reminder any time he sees them, especially if its something important like medication or an important appointment.

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

Sho will at first think something happened. He'll shoot them a quick text to ask where the hell they are. And when they tell him he forgot he'll roll his eyes and remind them.

With a brother like his (iykyk) he's used to that sort of thing, so it doesn't bother him too much.

The only time it will genuinely piss him off is if MC forgot that he was making food and they go out to eat. Like they grabbed fast food when he already made dinner.

I HC Sho as someone who hates wasting good food. So if there's one way to piss him off its that.

He wouldn't snap at MC but he would give them a bit of a lecture before a short while of silent treatment. Its not just about the food though. Its about the fact that he put so much effort into something and they just forgot.

Once he learned that it was kinda who they were he'll be more forgiving but he'll still get pissed.

LEO KUROSAGI

Okay Leo is petty when it first happens. If Sho gives them a littl a while of silent treatment, Leo will straight up act like they don't exist until they've either apologized with starbies or he's satisfied.

Once he learns its not their fault, he'll still be petty but he'll set alarms on their phone. He isn't going to spam call or text them. That's super desperate and ugly in his opinion (even if he wants to)

Leo is one of those guys who will stay mad if they forgot. The only time he won't is if it was an emergency (like they're dead)

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

Our boi Luca doesn't get mad. He gets a little one track minded himself (obviously) she he's always patient with MC.

He'll pick up on it faster than Alan though, thats for sure. He'll give them gentle reminders every now and then and try to keep them on track when they're together.

If he's not with them he'll send them texts about what they may have to do. If they asked him to he'd even try to find ways to help: giving them a list, reminding them, setting alarms, etc.

He can't lie that it does upset him a little when they forget about dates or important things, but he tries not to take it personally. That and he'll tell MC how he's feeling and why.

#tokyo debunker #headcanons #lucas errant #luca #vagastrom #alan mido #shohei haizono #sho #Leo kurosagi

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funforahermit · 2 months

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#just some thoughts #that might not be what people want or need to hear right now #but i need to say them and who reads this anyway #i'm sad that the show is officially over in spite of all the efforts to turn it around #of course i am #i love the story and the characters so much #but personally i find easy consolation in looking forward to whatever else rhys will do in the future #stede might be gone but rhys is not and everything he learned is not #i will see him act again and i'm so excited about that #so that's the good part of my thoughts #the bad part of my thoughts is fear tho #i fear that max is being a bitter little shit to us on purpose #because we dared to push back #we made it a Big Thing and made them look bad and now they're hellbent on making sure we get nothing #that's what it feels like #maybe other streamers wanted to take over but they made it impossible in one way or another #and then the headline about them targeting fanartists #idk the timing is suspicious idk #and maybe they even have the power to make sure we never get a dvd just to fuck us over #i don't know how these things work but i am afraid #and that's everything off my chest kthanksbye

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multi-lefaiye · 11 months

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i wanna be petty so i'm gonna vaguepost about someone i haven't spoken to in like four years

anyway i was talking earlier with two of my partners about experiences in the rp group we were in together, and one thing i was talking about was that like...... the way that some folks in that group wrote disabled characters certainly left. a lot to be desired. putting it lightly.

specifically calling out the one person who wrote a character with selective mutism and then got "bored" of writing his disability so they just had him get better and stop being disabled. (and like i won't claim to be an expert on mutism, selective or otherwise, but... uh....... bruh.)

#multi makes text posts #vaguepost cw #ig?#vent cw #negative cw #ableism cw #i remember so vividly they said they found him frustrating and boring to write b/c he couldn't talk #but they're the one who made no effort to find other ways for him to communicate #or like explore him as a character in general and how those communication barriers might affect him #idk just. huh! ok!#yeah this is warrior cats rp and not anything serious #but still. interesting. hate that #ok it is bedtime now

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 13 days

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I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

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massiveharmonytiger · 4 months

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So I think Gabe's portrayal was really intelligently done in the show and I'm pretty dismayed at the negative reactions. I'd argue that TV needs more portrayals of abusers that seem harmless and victims that make efforts to advocate for their own agency because that is what abuse often looks like in the real world. Yes, sometimes abuse is as in your face as with Gabe's introduction in the book version (which the show was still pretty true to, I'll discuss that below) and the other portrayals we've seen on TV, abusers being explicitly threatening or violent, victims cowering and showing visible distress, all that usual, tropey stuff. However, I think more education is needed on all the ways abuse is subtle, because this misunderstanding and this view of abuse as this black and white thing is often the reason so few victims get help, so many abusers get away with it and so many of the people around the victim and abuser, at best, are surprised when the find out what's really been happening, and at worst, defend the abuser because they're so harmless, nice, upstanding, pick your adjective and there's no way they're capable of that.

Source: https://www.domesticshelters.org/articles/identifying-abuse/the-silent-ways-abusers-control

I feel like a lot of the fandom has already fallen into this trap somewhat. Gabe from the TV show is too nonthreatening, bumbling, pathetic, silly, idiotic, nowhere near scary enough to warrant getting petrified by Medusa's head. He doesn't look like an ABUSER. And yet we're confronted with so many markers of abuse in that scene.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive to outsiders. The guy that leaves as Percy is arriving has experienced an interaction with Gabe that warrants Percy apologizing for Gabe's actions only for him to apologize back because he gets to leave, Percy doesn't. He's concerned. Sure, Gabe is fat shaming and yelling about eating fruit at the moment. The absurdity of the topic doesn't make it any less inappropriate or abusive btw, because its about the abuser having any excuse to display their dominance and power over you even if the subject matter is batshit. Ever see cases where one person in the relationship (usually a man) will police the other's clothing (usually a woman) because it's too revealing, too tacky, too whatever. That's abuse.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet he's verbally abusive towards Percy. He sarcastically greets him with the cruel nickname "genius" and immediately picks a fight with him. Percy refuses to engage because he knows, from experience, what being goaded looks like. Wrap your head around that. Kids older than him are out there having catfights and making stupid "your mom" jokes, but this infant has so much experience facing conflict, he already knows what steps to take to steer away from that kind of drama and stay in safe territory. He only engages a bit when he hears about Gabe answering Sally's phone. Anyone who's answered a friend or partner's phone before will probably consider Percy's anger and indignation a little bratty and unwarranted. The issue here is that Gabe is someone who ignores boundaries. The issue isn't that he answered Sally's phone, the issue is that he very likely did it without permission. Based on Percy and Sally's reactions (Percy is angry, Sally is resigned), he's someone who's regularly done stuff like look through Sally's phone or purse without her permission. Percy makes it clear that this is not okay, and he gets dismissed. Gabe just answers "whatever's ringin'" and Percy is made to look like the one overreacting. This is what abusers do. They're never in the wrong. And then, the cherry on top of the blue icing, he blames the victim. "What're we doing Percy, every time." Gabe's the one who picked the fight, but by the end of it, Percy's the one being blamed. This is so commonplace and anyone who's been through this knows how maddening it can be. This is such a short interaction but they pack so much into it.

Gabe is harmless…

And yet we find Sally sitting outside in the rain on the balcony, as if she's trying to ground herself after a traumatic experience. As if she's trying to bring herself into the present and not dissociate because when Percy arrives she needs to be there for him. She can deal with the Gabe stuff AFTER Percy is safe. I'll get more into Sally's interaction with Gabe in Part 2 because a lot of people were confused by the fact that she was so firm with him. There's an explanation, I promise.

A lot of people also expressed concern that we wouldn't see Gabe's truly monstrous side before he gets petrified but from what I can see, the shows been making great use of flashbacks and exposition, so I'm pretty sure this will be addressed. Percy and Sally are the heroes. It would be counterintuitive for the show to establish that and then not give them a blatant cause for turning Gabe into stone.

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #sally jackson #gabe ugliano #tw abuse themes

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haesunflower · 1 year

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petty fights with zb1

genre: slight angst only for hyung line, most are lighthearted

pairing: reader (gn) x all members of zerobaseone

about/tags: what i think reader x zb1 would fight about

warning some have triggers (implied cheating, jealousy and injury), these are mostly lighthearted, not all are established relationship, bullet point reactions, all lowercase is intentional, not proofread, i should have just made this normal and not bullet, I'm lazy

⠀⠀ kim jiwoong ⠀⠀

you always thought you were secure in your relationship

a lot of people swooned over jiwoong but he's been good at reassuring you that you're the only person for him

but lately, he's been busy filming another drama with seobin

and they spend all their free time together, doing lives and filming vlogs for seobin's channel

while some of it is for pr, you know they're really good friends either way

he's a hell of a good actor, you think

because watching his chemistry with seobin, you start to think he's cheating on you

you hope he isn't, but when he comes home one day looking extremely exhausted and as if he just cried – you prayed that you would be wrong

jiwoong kneels in front of you, and has trouble looking you in the eyes

he keeps stuttering, and then just cries

⠀⠀ zhang hao ⠀⠀

when you first started dating, one of the things you worried about was how well hao would get along with your group of friends

they were kinda, well, loud and too much

and you know hao is quite introverted – it's one of the things you love about him. he's calm. you're crazy. that kinda thing.

when you're all together he's usually mostly silent but he engages in conversation. you had assumed that when you all mingle and have your own conversations he holds up on his own.

to your surpise, your best friend let you know that he hasn't made an effort to get to know her even after all these months

that made you mad

the air in the car ride home felt weird. you were at a stoplight when you accusingly said

"do you hate my friends?"

hao just looks at you, and begins to open his mouth but is distracted by the sudden green light

without giving him a chance to think, "hao i've made an effort to be good friends with your members"

hao thinks you're being unfair, because even his partner doesn't understand what it's like to be an introvert

but to some degree you're right, he doesn't try hard enough

unsure of what to say, he nods and continues to drive

you loudly sigh and direct your body towards your window. you know this will have to be a conversation for tomorrow.

⠀⠀ sung hanbin ⠀⠀

hanbin was taking longer than usual again today

you always meet up at the exit of building b of the university when you're both done with your classes, so you could go on a quick cafe date before the sun sets

it's been 30 minutes since he texted "on my way!"

fed up, you head over to his classroom to find him lending his notes to a girl. usually this isn't a problem, but it's who he's lending it to that irks you.

"baby, can we go?"

"oh hi y/n, yeah hold on somi's just finishing up with my notes"

thing is, somi likes your boyfriend, and your boyfriend doesn't see that.

you head over to their table and pick up hanbin's notebook, somi looks shocked she was disrupted

"i'll send you photos of the other pages when we get home"

you shove his notebook in your book bag and start walking away, not giving her an opportunity to respond

when hanbin catches up to your pace he reaches for your hand only for you to swat it away

"stop being so nice to everyone hanbin, they get the wrong idea"

hanbin wanted to defend himself, but he deprioritized that train of thought as he realized you are 100% the jealous type

⠀⠀ seok matthew ⠀⠀

matthew's main descriptor is that he's cute, because he is

but you didn't know that being called cute bothered your boyfriend

"am i not handsome to you?"

"babe, where is this coming from?"

he flashes his phone screen, your recent photoset post from your finsta on display. it featured various pictures of both of you from your dates the week before

the caption he pointed to: "i have the cutest boyfriend in the whole world"

so you deadass thought he was joking

but he really wasn't, he looked real serious -_-

you set the phone down and hugged him, placing your head on his chest

"of course i also think you're the hottest man on the planet"

"much better", matthew finally smiles and you both laugh as he tickles you in revenge

later that night, you posted a few of his gym thirst traps with the caption "my boyfriend is so handsome he should choke me"

his older sister commented: gross. block me next time.

⠀⠀ kim taerae ⠀⠀

so the "fight" started when he texted you that morning with

"y/n look at this, the fans are saying i dress terribly"

"....well"

"well?! well what??"

you ended up not replying because you didn't know how to word it

you loved taerae but those red sweats needed to go

so when you got another text that said "are you really not going to respond to me"

you hit him with a "let's just go shopping today"

even though you hated couple items, it was the only way for taerae to buy the items you wanted for him

he secretly bought a pair of red sweats for you

in the end, he beats the fashion taeraerist allegations (thanks to you)

⠀⠀ ricky ⠀⠀

ever since you started dating, you couldn't recall a time when you were able to pay for your dates

he beats you to it every time...and you feel terrible about it.

ricky extensively spoiled you, and all you wanted was to be given an opportunity to do the same for him

one day you asked him if you could pay for lunch this time around

"no. never. don't worry about stuff like that"

"let me do it just once, please?"

you didn't get your way, and you both walked out of the restaurant slightly annoyed

in fact, you refused to go on any date with him from that point unless you could pay for it

he deadass couldn't get you to come with him on any plan he made for a whole month.

eventually, he showed up at your place and said "fine. for every ten dates you can pay for one"

he wasn't happy with it but at least you were

⠀⠀ kim gyuvin ⠀⠀

gyuvin was the clumsiest person you know

so when he knocked over the vase and cut his hand in an attempt to clean it up, you couldn't help but scream at him in worry for his safety

"gyuvin what are you doing? you shouldn't have touched that!"

you quickly found the first aid kit that his mom kept underneath the bathroom sink

gyuvin had his head down as he applied pressure to the cut

he watched as you worked your way through the supplies

as you gently tended to his wound he tried not to make any sound

"sorry i yelled earlier. i just wish you were more careful. i don't like it when you get hurt"

he looked up to meet your eyes, you were tearing up

it was sorta clouding your vision, so you had to stop what you were doing

"i know y/n, i'm sorry. i'm working on it"

he leaned his head against yours

⠀⠀ park gunwook ⠀⠀

you're both in debate. and you strongly dislike going up against him because 98% of the time you lose.

he likes to win and then gloat about it later

"how's it like to lose for the 3rd time in a row?" (jokingly, you think)

(because you have an inclination that he might have a massive crush on you) (you are correct)

academic rivals to lovers, if you will

when you finally started dating he stopped gloating at least

that doesn't mean he goes easy on you, he tries to give his one hundred percent because so do you

sometimes mid debate he'd catch himself staring at you and get a little distracted

your losing rate has since decreased to about 70% now (thank you puppy gunwook!)

⠀⠀ han yujin ⠀⠀

yujin had issues with sharing way before you started liking each other

maybe it's because he has younger siblings and basically had to share everything with them all his life

so when he shows up to school with a fully packed lunch and extra snacks, and you dare to come up to ask for the pack of pretzels he had, he was hesitant

you did this every monday without fail and he started to get fed up with it

"get your own food will you?"

"i would but it tastes better when it comes from you" you say as you plop down next to him at the courtyard

boy was gobsmacked. from that moment on he was kinda smitten.

i don't know how either that's just how his brain works

from then on, he only shared his snacks with you

except for that one time yena from the upper year said "oh that looks good, can i have some yujinie?" and he gave the whole bag to her.

yeah you guessed it, your pretzel bag.

you were furious

he didn't understand why until you made a snide remark at the end of the day - something along the lines of "yeah you're only nice to older girls"

he bought the giant xl version of the pretzels to school the next day as a sorry

A/N: my friend alexis helped me out with the ideas per member. personally tried to be angsty but most ended up being lighthearted lol. requests are open and you can claim anons too if you'd like hehe

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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ceruleancattail · 6 months

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hi!! I've been a fan of your works for the longest time!! could i request an airheaded yuu who doesn't know what they're doing half the time but they can say something randomly philosophical once in a blue moon that keeps you up at night with Riddle, Ace and Deuce? gender-neutral reader please! i thought of this one while going to bed last night so apologies if it's incomprehensible skdjksdfjkfksd

thank you!

🍭anon

Omg this was so silly… thank you so much for your request, 🍭anon! I Hope you like this!!!

Riddle, Ace and Deuce with an air-headed s/o that keeps them up at night…. (With questions)

Riddle x reader, Ace x reader, Deuce x reader

Riddle

A pair of crimson eyes tend to linger on your every step , whenever you stroll by the Heartsabyul dorm. The careful, watchful eyes of your schoolmate, Riddle Rosehearts. He is no stranger to the antics you pull, no matter if they were intended or not.

Riddle finds his reaction time improving by leaps and bounds whenever he hears your surprise. Immediately rushing to your side, ready to extract you out of whatever trouble you saw fit to land yourself in this time.

Both of his hands have long mastered the art of sliding around your waist, yanking in one smooth, fluid motion. Sometimes, the momentum gets the better of both of you, and you end up tumbling straight into his arms.

Clutching onto his shoulders, you hold him tight. Standing there in each other’s embrace, you two strike the perfect image of star-crossed lovers.

Riddle can’t help the way his lips slip upwards. A smile as sweet as ruby-red strawberry tarts. Honestly, prefect. You do enjoy having him on the edge, don’t you?

He still fusses quite a bit, though. Don’t expect to escape without a lecture. However, for all the words that fall from his lips, yours seem to have the most impact.

Odd, queer questions that would have never crossed his mind. You seem to have a knack for thinking of things people wouldn’t normally. Sometimes, he finds himself up at night pondering your queries.

Always full of surprises, aren’t you, darling?

“Hey, Riddle. Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up, like, every two hours?”

“I… honestly can’t say. Perhaps it would be the peacefulness and tranquility they sleep with… no matter how brief.”

Ace

You’ll soon grow used to a weight pressing onto your shoulders. Slinging an arm around you, Ace tends to lean into you quite a bit. He tags along wherever you go, that insufferable smirk never far from his lips.

Of course, it drops as quickly as it appears whenever he has to run to wherever you’ve wandered off this time. Ace has heard of air-minded people, but this is the first time he had to deal with one. There ain’t nothing but fluff and feathers up there, huh?

For all his teasing, Ace always is there to yank you out of whatever trouble you’ve stirred up. His arm stretching out, wrapping tightly around your torso. You could feel every pulse beating through his skin as Ace pulls you close. Out of harm’s reach.

Man, have you never heard? Curiosity killed the cat. You’re so lucky he was around to help you out. So how about a kiss, for all that effort?

Speaking of effort, you’ve made Ace burn more brainpower then the entire Night Raven curriculum has in an entire year. You had a weird fondness for weird questions that keep him tossing and turning in his sleep. Do you enjoy causing him sleepless nights?

There’s really no need for the questions, then.

He’s already thinking about you all the time.

“If money doesn't grow on trees, why do banks have branches?”

“You have no idea how bad I want to kiss you right now.”

Deuce

For most of his misguided youth, Deuce was always the one charging forth, headstrong. Never stopping to think about the consequences. He would have called it courage, back then.

Now watching you leap mindlessly into mess after mess, he’s changed his mind. Deuce trails after you like a lost puppy, following your every step. His curiosity often aligns with yours, although Deuce has to admire your… bravery for just going straight in. Whenever someone catches your interest, off you go! Without a care in the world.

Sometimes, that curiosity takes you too far. Then, Deuce springs into action. Honestly, he should start timing his sprinting towards you. Deuce swears he never runs this fast on the track.

He isn’t one for niceties whenever you’re under the slightest hint of danger. Arms stretched out, he’s tackling you straight out of the hit-zone. Mid-air, Deuce’s arms snake around your torso, clutching you in an tight embrace. His own back, your shield keeping you from all harm.

Both of you end up on the floor, a panting Deuce above of you. His hands pat your face frantically, words coming out in broken, jerky stammers. You have to assure him that you’re alright before his shoulders even think about starting to relax.

He’s just happy you’re ok.

Well, Deuce would be a bit lonely at night if you got hurt. He tends to call you from his dorm for homework help, although the conversations tend to drift elsewhere most of the time. Specifically, your odd questions.

Deuce’s drawing out entire diagrams, and both of you spend hours over the phone, discussing various fantastic theories. Each one more weirder then the last.

Deuce never thought he’ll have so much fun just talking.

You’re just special, aren’t you?

“Do married people live longer than single ones or does it only seem longer?”

“Hold up, I’m opening my laptop right now-“

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #deuce x reader #deuce spade #deuce #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #ace trappola #twst ace #riddle rosehearts #riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #lucky charm🔷

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jellieland · 1 year

Text

A week or two after the games, Grian will usually check in with the victor.

It's a habit that's probably more for his own benefit than anyone else's. But it is, he thinks, a good habit nonetheless.

After all, as fun as it all is, things can get a bit... intense, towards the end, and it's good for his peace of mind to make sure the last one standing is ok with how things shook out.

Nothing much has ever really come of it before; they're all pretty resilient. He doubts this time’ll be different. Except- well.

Something about it all itches at the back of his mind, and he hasn’t been able to work out why. There was the actual ending, of course, but also Grian may have been whispering in Martyn's ear about how boring that final showdown was turning out to be, and how narratively satisfying it would be if he just betrayed the other two and got it over with, so.

If nothing else, it feels like he's got no reason to break with tradition.

There's just one more concern.

Martyn seems to have made it almost impossible to contact him.

It's not... unheard of, for players to keep to themselves most of the time, especially when it comes to those they don’t share a server with. It seems a little uncharacteristic of Martyn, but the last time Grian saw him outside the games was before they even started, so maybe he does things differently these days.

There are certainly a great many reasons why that could be the case, most of which are perfectly sensible.

But Grian's never been able to resist picking at a puzzle put in front of him, whether the puzzle likes it or not, so he is going to talk to Martyn. And he can just see what happens, and worry about any consequences if and when they appear.

Luckily, he already has a way to do just that.

He doesn't usually need to do this - although it is very funny to startle Scar or Mumbo with it sometimes when they're concentrating. Honestly it's usually less effective than communicators, with how much effort it takes.

But he does have a way. The same way he used to whisper in Martyn's ear very recently, in fact.

He reaches out, away from his home, away from his body, and it feels a little like simultaneously overextending himself, and putting his foot down on a step he thought was flat ground.

That is... not how this usually feels.

It's odd. Rather unnerving.

But it works.

He finds Martyn. Watches the vague shape of him solidify into something more real.

He’s still wearing his red life outfit, for some reason. His eyes are closed. Around his head, the coral curls like a blood-red crown.

“What do you think you're playing at?” Asks Grian.

Martyn blinks his eyes open slowly, looking less confused than Grian would expect for someone hearing a disembodied voice out of nowhere. “Oh good.” He says dryly. “You again.”

He squawks indignantly. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

There is silence for a few seconds.

“...Hey.” Martyn says, and as flippant as he suddenly sounds, he looks as thrown off balance as Grian feels. “Not sure who this is, but I think you might have the wrong number!”

“I think that's unlikely.” He deadpans. “Where are you? I haven't been able to get hold of you.”

“Uh-” There's a short pause as he looks around at wherever he is right now. “Falling into endless nothingness, looks like. Same old, same old, am I right?”

Grian rolls his eyes. “Yeah, ok. Well, I suppose you don't have to tell me.” A part of him makes a note of Martyn’s wording, though. Just in case.

“...Hm. Well, not gonna lie, I do appreciate the change of pace, but I would love to know what exactly you want from me. You know, just on the off chance that you feel like giving me any clues.”

It's at this point that Grian remembers: one of the main reasons this method of communication is good for messing with people is that it makes him sound, um. A little different. And while he can see Martyn, it’s not as if Martyn can see him.

...Best to just pretend that hadn't slipped his mind.

“You do realize this is Grian, right?” He asks, as though it ought to be obvious.

“Riiight, yeah, sure.” Says Martyn. “And I'm also Grian, did you know that?”

“Oh for- what, do you want me to tell you some secret only the two of us would know, or something?”

“Nah.” Says Martyn. “That wouldn't work.”

“Elaborate.” Says Grian, through gritted teeth.

“You know what? I don't think I will!” Replies Martyn brightly.

Grian takes a deep breath in through his nose. “I'm beginning to wonder why I bother.” He grinds out.

Martyn snorts. “Tell me about it.”

There's a short silence.

“But- ok.” He continues. “Just suppose for the sake of argument that you are Grian.”

“...Yes?” Asks Grian warily.

“I have a question for you.”

“...Yeeees?” Asks Grian, even more warily.

The silence stretches for several long moments.

“What's up?” Asks Martyn.

“Yeah ok, this isn’t worth it, I'm leaving now.”

“Wait! No, I'm serious!” Under the amusement, there's a note of something that sounds almost like nervousness in his voice. It's uncharacteristic. Unnerving.

“What are you talking about?” Asks Grian, trying very hard to keep his voice at least mostly free of annoyance.

“Oh, you know! What's going on, what's the deal, what'd you want to talk to me for?” There's a slight hesitation. “You need help or something?”

“I- ok. That's actually sort of relevant. It's really nothing too complicated, Martyn.” He says, grumpily. “All I wanted to do was make sure you're good with what happened at the end of the last game.”

Martyn blinks, and goes very still.

There is a long silence - long enough that Grian starts to feel concerned.

And then Martyn laughs.

It's not a nice laugh.

“Good, huh. You want to know if I’m good with it. That sure is an interesting choice of words.”

“...How so?” He asks, guardedly.

“Grian. Grian, I’m not sure if you remember this, but I won. I won this one, Grian.” Every word he says, however restrained, sounds like it’s had to claw its way out of him. He glares at nothing. “And guess what? It's just like the others. I don’t really care enough for any of it to matter to me, anymore, and that's fine by me.”

Now that's... a lot to unpack. “You- I'm sorry?”

“Well that makes one of us then, doesn't it?” His voice is coated with scorn.

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you actually think I’m going to explain myself to you?” He asks, looking half-amused. “You, of all people?”

“Well unfortunately, Martyn, I can’t exactly put Ren on the line, so I’m afraid I’m all you’re going to get.” He snaps, and instantly regrets it when he sees the look in Martyn’s eyes.

There is a short silence.

Grian shifts uncomfortably. He’s not going to apologize, obviously. But. Well. “That... ok, maybe that was a bit much.” He says.

“...Little bit, yeah.”

There is another silence.

After a while, Martyn speaks.

“I would’ve betrayed him too, you know.” He says coolly.

“What, Ren?”

“Yeah. At the drop of a hat. Soon as it was convenient.”

“I mean sure, I suppose?” Says Grian, caught off guard. “You didn’t, though. Did you? When you had the chance.”

“Eh.” He shrugs, as though that’s an irrelevant detail. “It would’ve been more dramatic later. You know how it is.”

...There's no real way he can justify saying no to that, is there? “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I do.”

He tries to picture the King, betrayed. The Hand, triumphant.

“I dunno, though.” He says, thoughtful. “I don’t think you ever could’ve done it, to be honest. Not in the first one. Whatever it was you were planning, it was just never how that story was going to go.”

“That’s not true.” He says it just slightly too fast. “I know that’s not true.”

Grian scoffs. “You know thinking about something isn’t the same as doing it, right?”

“What, no, really?” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t say!”

“What I’m saying,” He lets his voice turn biting, “Is that you’re being stupid.”

Martyn lets out a startled laugh. It’s surprisingly genuine. “Wow. You’re really bad at this, dude.”

Grian bristles. “Well why am I the one who has to do it then? Why don’t you talk to someone else, if you hate talking to me so much?”

“I mean…” He makes an unconvinced noise. “Obvious problems aside, when do you even expect me to do that? We usually have other things to worry about.”

“I don’t know, maybe at literally any point between the games?” He sighs exasperatedly. “There’s no way you’re that busy.”

“Between the games?” Martyn asks incredulously, and Grian suddenly feels as though something dangerous is hovering over their heads, just about to drop. “What do you mean, between the games?”

“I mean between the games! Like- now! What do you think this is, right now, if it’s not between the games?” He snaps.

“This right now?” He looks nonplussed. “I think we’re usually asleep for most of this bit. Or possibly we forget about it. As you can probably imagine, it’s hard to know for sure.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” He says firmly, ignoring the unease trying to creep up on him. “I know I do stuff between games, and I know I don’t just forget about it. That makes no sense.”

“I mean, I don't necessarily mean everything between the games, more just this specifically.” He gestures around at nothing. “That gets more complicated, though. But you- hm.” He looks curious. “That’s interesting. Where even are you, then, at the moment?”

“I’m at home! Which is where I thought everyone else was too!”

Martyn seems to consider this for a few moments, and then he frowns, and then his expression goes blank. “…Oh.” He says. “Yeah. No, that… makes sense, actually. Yeah. You’re probably right.”

“Wha- what do you mean? Right about what?”

“Everyone probably went home. Or, at least, they thought they did. And hey, what’s the difference, when you get right down to it?”

“...Ok, I’m going to ignore the second part for now, I already got past that little existential crisis after Ren and Doc’s whole… thing… in season eight- if you think everyone went home, why are you- what was it you said- ‘falling into endless nothingness’?”

There’s another pause.

“...You’re really gonna make me say it, huh? That seems cruel, even for you.”

“Wait, no, what do you-”

“Where else do you think I would go?” It sounds less like an admission and more like an accusation. “What ‘home’ do you think I have left, Grian?”

“Look.” Snaps Grian, feeling vaguely tricked. “It’s not my fault that you-”

“Yeah, it never is, is it?” He glares into the darkness. “It’s always a tragic inevitability with you, never a choice you’re making. That way you get to stab people in the back and pretend to be sad about it. Best of both worlds, huh?”

Grian splutters for a few seconds. “Why are you being so rude to me??”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.” He smirks. “Don’t know what you expected, honestly.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s hiding behind inevitability now?” Grian retorts, perhaps a trifle vindictively.

“I never said I wasn’t a hypocrite, sometimes. Also, I never said I felt bad about it.” He replies levelly, and all at once, they’re talking about something else.

“You didn’t need to say it.” Snaps Grian. “You might be good at lying but you’re not perfect. I could see in your face that it hurt.”

He narrows his eyes. “It felt good, actually.”

“Wow, good for you.” He says, almost amused suddenly. “You didn’t say I was wrong, though.”

His expression twists into something unreadable. “I know you, Grian. Like recognizes like.” He says, voice low and dangerous. “You’re a liar.”

Grian shrugs, despite the fact that Martyn will not see it. “And you’re a coward. Your point?”

“I don’t need to justify myself to someone who refuses to admit that he could have chosen to be better, if he’d ever wanted to.” He spits out.

“Hey, at least I don’t try and convince myself I’m a monster just because I want to survive.”

That one strikes something tender; he can tell. “Right, yeah, and you’re just a blameless angel and everyone you cut down had it coming, I’m sure.”

“I didn’t say that. But since you bring it up… how many people did you give up your time for, again?” He grins. “Is it less than one? Because I think it is. I think I’ve got you beat there, Martyn.”

“And where did it get you?” He snarls.

“Home, in the end.”

Martyn flinches back as though he’s been struck.

“Did you forget about that part?” Asks Grian.

There’s a long pause.

Martyn fidgets with the end of the banner he wears around his waist, pulling at where the white threads are coming undone. He stares out into the darkness. “Yeah.” He says. “I guess I did.”

The satisfaction of winning the argument feels less potent, suddenly.

“You’re right.” Says Grian, after a while. “I’m really bad at this.”

Martyn laughs quietly. “To be fair, I’m not exactly helping.”

“You’re really not.”

He sighs. “You know pulling the knife out just makes the wound start bleeding again, don’t you? That’s all we’re doing here. That’s all we’re going to do to each other. We’re too alike to do anything else, unless we just don’t do anything. And hey, we’re not great at that either.”

“Hmm.” Says Grian begrudgingly. “I’d say something about inevitability again, but I honestly don’t think you’re wrong.”

“We both just enjoy pushing buttons too much to be particularly good at not pushing them, I guess.” Martyn sounds half-amused, half-resigned.

Grian makes an irritated noise. “Yes, alright, I don’t need another reminder of the whole button debacle.”

There is more silence.

After a while, Grian speaks again. “There’s something I was wondering about, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” Martyn raises an eyebrow.

“What’s the reason?” He asks.

“You’re gonna have to be more specific with that one, mate.”

“‘This is a death match for a reason.’” He says matter-of-factly. “That’s what you said. So- what is it? What’s the reason?”

Martyn blinks, then lets out a short, harsh laugh. “You think I know that?”

“No, not really. That’s why I wondered what you meant when you said it.”

“It- look. I don’t know if you’re expecting philosophy from me, or something. It’s a death game. People die, and it doesn’t have to mean anything. It doesn’t have to be special, it doesn’t have to be honourable, it doesn’t have to be fair. That’s what I meant.” He frowns. “You know that.”

“I do.” He admits.

“Then why ask?” Martyn looks around as though this time, somehow, he might be able to find Grian’s face in the dark.

He doesn’t.

“I just-” Grian sighs. “What do you want?” He asks. “What do you actually want, Martyn?”

The question sits heavy in the darkness between them.

“What do you want me to say?” Martyn asks. He sounds more tired than Grian’s ever heard him.

“I want you to tell the truth.” Grian says. He needs to know. He needs to know.

“Now, Grian.” Says Martyn, voice gently chiding. “Have you met me? You know I can’t do that.”

“Pretend it’s a lie, then.”

Martyn’s grip on the banner he wears tightens, slightly. There is a long, long silence.

“Or how about,” Says Grian, eventually, “You say something, and I won’t know whether it’s a lie or not.”

There is another pause.

Martyn frowns at the red of the fabric in his hands, as though it might offer him something.

As far as Grian can tell, it does not.

He’s just beginning to give up hope of ever getting an answer when Martyn speaks, so softly he almost doesn’t hear it.

“I want it to be warm again.” He says.

It’s quiet.

For a moment – just a moment, no more – Grian remembers bloody, aching fists. He remembers burning heat.

“Well.” He says. “That makes one of us, then. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Says Martyn, voice low. “I guess it does.”

There’s another short second of silence before Martyn speaks again, sounding cheerful. “So, suppose I’ll see you in the next one, huh? If that ever happens.” He grins. “Wanna take bets on how hard Scott’ll have to try not to win it? I’m gonna go with very.”

Grian snorts. “I’m not taking that bet. That man is infuriatingly good at surviving.”

“You’re not wrong! You are not wrong.” He gestures into the void. “And don’t even get me started on Timmy’s whole thing, I think we both know how that one’s gonna go. Unless you want to bet against him being gone first next time round?”

“You’re not Scar.” Says Grian. “There’s no way you talk anyone into taking that bet in a million years. Except maybe Timmy.”

“Fair, fair.”

There’s a short pause.

Grian hesitates for a moment before he speaks – almost, but not quite, reluctant. “Why do you keep looking back?” He asks. “There’s nothing left for us there. You know that, right?”

“I mean, let me know when you find a better place to look.” He tilts his head to the side slightly, curious, and frowns. “Do you really never want to go back?”

“No.” Says Grian. “Never.”

Martyn opens his mouth, and then, uncharacteristically, closes it again. “Yeah.” He says. “Me neither.”

Grian is tempted, momentarily, to tell Martyn to take the banner off and let it go. Let the darkness take it. Prove it.

But just like Martyn, he lets it drop.

Mutually assured destruction is a potent thing.

Now all he has to do is the hard part. The part he’s dreading most of all.

The main concern is phrasing it correctly. Making it sound just how he wants it to sound.

After some thought, he thinks he’s found the words he's looking for.

He could always be wrong, though. He’s usually more one for incredible violence than smooth talking.

“Martyn?” He asks cautiously, casually. “Do you want me to help you?”

The expression that crosses Martyn’s face is unreadable.

He processes the question for a few moments, before he answers.

“Nah. I’m good.” He says, voice guarded. “Don’t worry about it.”

And that’s the rub, isn’t it.

Because now Grian has to decide whether he’s going to let Martyn lie to him or not.

Whether he’s going to pass the test that’s been set before him, or not.

...

Grian’s not a monster.

He’s just realistic.

There's nothing he could do, anyway.

“Well.” He says levelly. “Just let me know if that changes.”

(Martyn would do the same to him. It’s not a justification, or an excuse. But he knows it to be true.)

Martyn stares out into the darkness. His eyes are almost, but not quite, resentful. “Sure thing, man. Why wouldn’t I.”

It’s not said like a question, so Grian doesn’t answer it. “Well, you know I can’t stay here forever.”

“I do know that.”

“Any messages you want me to pass on to any of the hermits? I know you haven’t seen Mumbo in a while.” It’s not really a compromise, or a peace offering. Hopefully, however, it’s close enough to one or the other of those to act in their stead.

Martyn closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Opens his eyes again. “If you were Grian, then maybe.” His gaze is cold. “But I think this hypothetical has gone on long enough.”

...It’s a lot easier for both of them, if Martyn believes that.

He’s positive Martyn knows that.

Just this once, perhaps he can manage to not look a gift horse in the mouth.

“For what it’s worth,” He says, looking away, “I moved on from the Bad Boys when it got too expensive to keep them alive.”

“It’s not worth a lot.” Says Martyn flatly. “And it would be worth even less coming from Grian.”

Grian sighs. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you around, Martyn.”

“I know.” Says Martyn. He closes his eyes.

After a few moments, Grian does too.

When he opens them, he’s home.

…

Oh, that doesn’t feel good.

It really doesn't.

He could dwell on this. It wouldn’t be hard. He could drown himself in guilt over what he’s done, or not done, or will not do.

But- well.

Grian never really saw the point in letting someone else drag you down with them.

#once he's sure that the thing he's decided to pretend was not grian is gone #martyn goes back to falling #and wishes he still felt enough grief to be able to cry.#limited life smp #life series #grian #martyn inthelittlewood #my writing #i finally managed to finish this. it took me. a while.#they're narrative foils to the point of absurdity is the thing #they're incredibly similar and also completely different #it's fascinating

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yanderestarangel · 6 months

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Hii, would you write some soft smut about a Lin Kuei brother/s (could be any brother or all of them, I wouldn't complain, I love them all) something like you having to take care of them because they are injured (like them with an arm cast) and you having to help them with things like bathing, dressing, etc. It could be slow or soft since they're injured, but just giving ideas, love your works 🩷

HEADKANONS MK1 | TAKING CARE OF THE LIN KUEI TRIO | SOFT SMUT EDITION

TW: smut, v!sex, blowjob, afab anatomy, mk1 spoilers about the canon story, mention of fractures, care, slow sex, no pronouns used other than 'you', nsfw text, whining.

A/N: thanks anon, sorry if it strayed a little from what you wanted, i hope you like it.

♡ TOMAS VRBADA ♡ He accidentally broke his arm when he went to do the mission with his brothers, because of Nitara he had one of his joints dislocated when he tried to hold on to the steep wall of Shang Tsung's castles, however, due to the seriousness of the task he had to endure the pain until I got home - It was a horrible scene to see Tomas staggering with his arm hurting and tears in his eyes, and one of the words you can describe him at that moment was: extremely vulnerable.

He asked for your help to find a doctor, but unknown to his brothers, he didn't want to be a burden or appear weak, he just needed you with him. After the doctor carried out the process and immobilized his arm, forcing him to have only one of his useful arms.

Smoke loved being spoiled by you, but in those conditions they made him feel like a burden but you didn't mind taking care of him, after all, he was your husband.

He would ask for help with everything, be it putting on clothes, eating or taking a shower, some things he can do alone but he is a spoiled big boy who loved your hands on him.

And this applies in bed too.

A broken arm won't stop Tomas from wanting to fuck you, he has a high libido, which means being at home and seeing you 24/7 will mess with his head.

As he will be vulnerable, you will have to be careful where he touches.

Bath sex would be the best, with Tomas sitting in the bathtub facing you, his muscular body completely naked and wet from the hot water, while you watched him get hard while you rubbed his body with relaxing massage oils, especially when your fingers touched his abdomen. His erection can be seen by you a short time later, with Vrbada's blue eyes staring at you, he would moan rubbing his body against you - a mixture of physical pain from the injury and also the primordial need to be satisfied by you - There's no way to tell not him pouting and moaning needily for you. Which leads you to have to ride him, in cowgirl position, however, being careful not to force his body too much.

Even if he was in pain, he wasn't going to talk, the heat of your pussy makes him forget any physical pain and even his broken arm, the sight of your body on top of him, breasts bouncing copiously as you ran your hands over his face, ensuring of asking if he's okay with every rhythm of your hips - it was something priceless to him, any pain was literally nothing if he had that feeling forever, being cared for by you, being loved by you.

You would be able to see his face beneath you, eyes slowly closing, the sound of the water entering your ears as you saw Tomas practically sleeping while moaning still inside your wetness, he will babble some things, but unheard of, cut off by the hoarse moans that came out of his throat, he would weakly move his hips upwards, while moaning louder, which wasn't much, after all he was in that state but you could hear an "-I love you" between the lustful whispers, proof that he He wanted you there forever and admired the effort you were making for him, you would see that even though he was "sick" he would make an effort to make you come. "-I want you to cum too my little angel."

Tomas would moan feeling the familiar heat in his balls, cumming a while later with a long, tired groan, emptying his seed inside you. "-I promise that when I'm better, I'll reward you, okay?" He whispers, leaning on your body, taking one of your breasts to his lips, while the two of you hugged each other in the heat of your sweaty and wet bodies.

♡ BI HAN ♡ The cut caused by kung lao in the fight rehearsed by Liu Kang in Mrs. Bo's bar left him with a deeper injury than he initially imagined. However, as was to be expected from the feared grandmaster, he didn't mention it to anyone - anyone other than you - He tried to pretend that the bleeding from his arm wasn't hurting, and that you were being "dramatic" for worrying about it. he.

Bi Han tried to pretend that the pain wasn't affecting him, but late that night you woke up to him literally crying in pain in your shared bed. He was fragile, something that disturbed you, the grand master and your husband were crying like a baby - and soon you realized that he really needed your help.

You quickly called a lin kuei doctor - according to Bi Han he would keep it all a secret so that the dreaded sub zero wouldn't look like a weakling who was crying over a bruise caused by a simple farmer.

Bi Han would have to rest for a few days and this gave him a face you had never known, a vulnerable, sweet and fragile man. He didn't demand anything else, he didn't order or be cocky with you, he simply spoke quietly - "Can you please help me?" "My arm hurts, can you help me eat?" "Can you help me tie up my hair?" - and so on, he let himself be himself, a man who needed and wanted to be taken care of by someone and that someone was you.

It was a new experience, even endearing, he felt slightly strange being at home so much - being so comfortable and without any underlying worries about the clan, just you and him. He would look at you in the reflection of the dressing table mirror, as he watched you comb his long, silky, black hair, even though he had said that he didn't need it - an understatement, obviously he needed it, but not just in a physical sense but in the soul, the His eyes said "please take care of me" even though the spoken words said the opposite. You just said you needed to take care of him, while preventing future protests.

He felt your warm fingers on his cold skin, your eyes full of care and love for him, as your body moved to take something he asked for, for the first time the feeling of lust came along with the voluntary desire to give himself to you, he wasn’t going to dominate you that night, but rather be dominated and taken care of.

And that's how he stopped beneath you, your pussy swallowed every inch of his hard and needy shaft, his arm that was still useful rested on your waist, his lips met yours, he whimpered and whispered sweet things, between messy and raw kisses, the sound of the bed creaking and the wetness of their bodies was loud but low, like a bedtime song from the ancient gods.

Bi Han broke the kiss, looking deep into his eyes, moaning needily with each lustful kiss that his cunt's lips placed on his cock, making him throw his head back and grab the sheets.

"-I love you so much Mmmh-" the grand master moaned as he opened his lips, he didn't even try to push his body for more friction, he just wanted to be there and say all the things he wouldn't normally say because because of his inflated ego, things like:

"-Please never leave my side, always take care of me, I'm nothing without you."

"-I would never leave you dear please, just let me cum and satisfy you."

"-Ah- Fuck... I'm close p-please." - Among other phrases inaudible through the decibels of his hoarse voice, so, he just wanted you to stay riding all night on top of him, beneath the low orange light reflected by the wood, the pain and everything Bi Han felt was forgotten in a box of time, at that moment, he was just a man ready to be loved by you.

♡ KUAI LIANG ♡ The fight with Bi Han left a scar on Kuai's face, but not just that, but several external and internal bruises. Unlike his brothers, he will ask for your help immediately, he will be fragile inside and out - In addition to the insecurity he will have because of the bruise on his face, thinking that you won't find him prettier because of that, so you.

You'll need to comfort him mentally too.

He would need your help to wash the dried blood from his sweaty skin, as he spoke of what happened, with a voice of disappointment and a soul that cried out for contact and love, something that only you could offer him - the first nights after that he he will have a fever, his body is already hot naturally, however, you could see the steam that came out with each contact with the cold water that fell on his body, with each bath, an indication that he was sick, he would stay in your arms , just enjoying your scent while you gave him a bath, he would whisper smiling in your ear how good you made him feel, how special the pyromancer felt with your hands on him.

"-You make me feel like a prince, you know?" Kuai Liang smiled as he brought both calloused hands to your face, taking in every feature he could see, as if you were going to disappear - and he was really afraid of that happening - Liang would smile even more when he saw you join the bath with him, He could already feel his erection pulsing, all the blood that was rushing to his head had already gone to his dick, making him moan.

He would guide his strong, warm arms against your waist, kissing your neck as he moaned softly, pressing his hard length against your ass. "-Please... Take care of me honey, I just need to feel you even more my love." and with that, you understood the message, to take care of him in several different environments, whether sexual or not, since the heat in his body was not just from an inopportune fever but a passion as strong as the fire of hell.

You knelt in front of him, knees aching slightly from the contact with the cold and wet ceramic, he looked at you with expectation and need, while with one hand he weakly guided your head to his pulsing shaft, the oral ministrations would leave him a shaking mess in a short time - due to the sensitivity of his condition, he would whine more than usual -

"-Good job... Yes... Just like that, keep it up please..." he moaned, practically a sentence that could easily be read as an attempt to beg, beg you not to stop.

"-You'll never leave me right? Mmm- I'm just yours, and you're just mine..." He continued as he pushed his hips lightly against your lips, he could stay there forever, looking at you deep down from his eyes while he was fully in your mouth, but he knew it wouldn't last long, hoarse moans and sweet phrases would come out of his throat, while hot and salty jets fell on your tongue, with Kuai Liang breathing heavily in the process. He would look at you again, with a tired and sleepy smile, leaning against the wall.

"-I love being taken care of by you..." was the only thing he said, before pulling you into another hug.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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wooahaes · 29 days

Text

on repeat

pairing: non-idol!dk x gn!reader

prompt: soulmate au series. 12/13

word count: ~7.0k

warnings: mentions of food. time loop au. some angst concerning not having a soulmate. also mentioned angst for other member (hao).

daisy’s notes: i feel like this one could have been longer but i didnt want it to get Too long compared to the other fics, yknow?

summary: What started as a day of making deliveries ended in Seokmin waking up on the same day. And then again, and then again… So, wherever you are, he needs to find you if he wants to see Saturday again.

Seokmin had been living his life on schedule ever since he turned ten. Before that, truly, because his parents had always set something for him (school, play, dinner, bath time, bedtime), but he knew that it became a little different after he turned ten. He had doctors appointments configured into that schedule, and every appointment had his dad holding his hand as the doctor tried yet again to work out what Seokmin's sign could be. Some of them would always be subtle and hard to detect, but there were plenty of things they could figure out.

And then when that list was exhausted, the afternoon doctor's appointments turned into Wednesday afternoon appointments with Dr. Jeon. She'd spoken to Seokmin for their first appointment with his mother sitting next to him, gauging how he truly felt about the fact he might not have a soulmate. He didn't tell her at first that it hurt to be different. Not with his mother next to him, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. He needed to smile for his mom, to be the bubbly boy she knew and loved.

Wednesday afternoon, Seokmin went back alone starting with that second visit. "My classmates made fun of me again for not having a soulmate."

Dr. Jeon had adjusted her bright pink glasses, and frowned at him. "How do you feel about that?"

That they're right, so it shouldn't hurt to hear the truth. "Bad." He'd curled into himself a little more, tugging his jacket closer to himself. Maybe he could disappear if he tried. "I can't help it."

Dr. Jeon's room was lit only by lamps and whatever light made it through the blinds and curtains. She hated the overhead lights (they buzzed loudly and she could never hear herself think, she said), and Seokmin never minded that they were off. The orange glow made things feel oddly safer. So did the fake sunflowers on her desk, tucked away behind her behemoth of a computer (Dr. Jeon said she could never keep them alive if they were real). As much as he wanted to disappear, he felt safe here. Dr. Jeon wasn't his mom. He didn't have to pretend for Dr. Jeon.

"I wish I had a soulmate," his voice was quieter that time. "Some of my classmates think something's wrong with me. That..."

She looked up from where she's been jotting something down. "That?" She prodded in that inquisitive way she did last time they spoke alone for a few minutes, and Seokmin knew he couldn't drop it without feeling guilty. "It's okay, Seokmin. You can take all the time you need."

He didn't meet her gaze. "They think that I'm never gonna be loved."

Dr. Jeon frowned again at his words. "Do your parents love you?"

His head shot up. "Yes! Of course they love me!"

"Do your friends?"

He nodded furiously. "And—And I love my friends. But what does that have to do with my soulmate?"

Dr. Jeon shook her head. "Love comes in many forms, Seokmin. A soulmate's love isn't guaranteed to be romantic, but even if it was, you aren't guaranteed to be with your soulmate. Love takes effort. My husband is a relationship counselor," she twisted her wedding ring around her finger, "and he sees plenty of couples who assume being soulmates is the only thing they need to make it work."

"But..." He furrowed his brow. "I thought soulmates were forever."

"They can be." Dr. Jeon paused. "You're so young, Seokmin, but you'll understand one day. A soulmate represents the possibility of that love, not the only existence of it." She chuckled. "Besides... You're too young to worry about romantic love. But for now, we can work on acceptance."

Acceptance...?

"Whether you have a soulmate or not, Seokmin," she said, the big beads of her earrings clinking together as she set aside her pad of notes, "you're still a person capable of loving others and being loved. It's hard for kids your age to separate out love like this, but you'll realize it as you grow up. There is nothing wrong with not having a soulmate."

Seokmin hadn't been able to accept her words for a while. Every day, he saw something new in the world about soulmates. A new drama based around them, or a new discount to those who can prove they're with their soulmate, or a new magazine with childish quizzes that pretend to predict your soulmate's traits. Every Wednesday, he found himself back on that plush couch and talking about something new. A new thing he's eliminated. Another classmate discovered their sign. News of an intern at his dad's work that found his soulmate (this one Seokmin wasn't supposed to hear). And every week, he left Dr. Jeon's sessions with those words said at the end:

There was nothing wrong with not having a soulmate... So why did Seokmin want one so badly?

Seokmin grew up. He started college, and he met Minghao through it. Eventually his routine changed as he began to balance work and school and a social life, all while living in a cozy little apartment with Minghao. Make breakfast, go to class, go to work, find time to shove food into his face, deal with more customers... It became a schedule he pretty much lived by with his social life a little less present. He'd get it back one day, hopefully. But he always made time for dinner with Minghao on Friday nights: their one day a week where they’ve completely slowed down together.

Minghao seemed more tired this week. "I'm tired of blue."

Seokmin looked up from his dinner. "Which blue?"

"Calm blue. Not sad. They're fine, wherever they are, and I should be glad for it, but I'm not." Minghao scowled.

Seokmin frowned as he watched Minghao. Their vision is filled with red now, he wanted to say. Are you okay with that? But he didn't, instead reaching out to ruffle his hair. "It'll be okay," he said. "At least they're calm now."

Minghao said nothing. He just sat there, staring, brows drawing together more and more.

"What?"

"It's darker."

His soulmate was upset by something. Seokmin averted his gaze. He kept his thoughts to himself. No doubt Minghao already had them himself: his frustration upset his soulmate. He couldn't help but wonder if that was the kind of person Minghao's soulmate was: someone who empathized even though they had no idea where their own soulmate's feelings were coming from. No doubt their vision would be clouded by those same blues. Minghao could be sharp-tongued and snarky at times, but he wasn't a monster. He worried for them whenever his vision was lit up with fiery reds and deep blues and nauseating green.

"I used to be angry, too, you know." Seokmin kept his focus on his own dinner now. "That I don't have one."

"You know I don't believe that." Minghao had always been one of the ones who, for some reason, believed Seokmin did have a soulmate. His sign just wasn't one of the obvious ones like his or Seungkwan's. But Minghao was reasonable about it, too: Seokmin was the kind of person who could forge his own soulmate if things felt right enough.

Seokmin waved it off. "But I understand being angry. It's something outside of your control, and it's hard to let that... be."

Humans, in Seokmin's experience, liked having control over themselves. He saw it in himself as a child, always wanting to have some choice in what he wore, in the foods he ate. He saw it now, too, in children when he went shopping and saw patient mothers holding up two options for their child to pick from. But he always saw it the most with his friends. The frustration that etched itself into Minghao's brows whenever the colors changed, the subtle annoyance before his thanks when someone pushed Seungcheol toward the right object, the way Seungkwan would flinch from pain sometime and wave off any concern. All things that stemmed from depending entirely upon another person in one way or another. And Seokmin felt it, too, in not having. A soulmate was never a guarantee to have love in your life, after all. Yet Seokmin didn't get to choose whether he would want this person at all. Would he? If he had a soulmate, would he fall for them? He had plenty of love in his heart to give... but would they even want it from him, too?

"You're right," Minghao's voice was softer now. "I think... I want to meet them someday."

Seokmin smiled. "I think you should."

“I’m scared they’ll hate me.” Minghao let out a sigh, staring down at his food for a moment. “So what if they do?”

“Then you’ll figure it out.” Seokmin reached across the table, squeezing Minghao’s hand gently. “If they’re your soulmate… Then they’ll try to understand you. You’ll do the same, right?”

Minghao met his gaze, but said nothing. Today wasn’t a day that he could agree with Seokmin, already too inside his own head. In time, he’d accept it: Seokmin knew he would. He just needed time, and Seokmin was more than happy to give him that and whatever space he needed. He could believe in Minghao’s soulmate enough for the both of them.

And the day he met them face to face, Seokmin knew he’d been right: Minghao’s soulmate was patient in the way he needed them to be. Understanding, too, without any hidden malice toward him. Exactly what Minghao needed.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Not everyone was able to make it, of course. It was horribly last minute, but Seokmin figured it had to be important since it was. A few people had their reasons to not be there (work, other things that needed doing). Seokmin, on the other hand, was free from his usual job. All he had was the option to make some deliveries for extra money, and he'd probably spend the day doing that to get some exercise in. He rolled out of bed, got ready for the day, and stepped out of his bedroom to see where Minghao was asleep on the couch. Seokmin paused, brows drawing together until he saw that he was clutching his phone still. Ah. He must have come back late last night and fell asleep while on the phone with his soulmate as they made their way home. Seokmin left him with a blanket draped over him before he headed out for the day. Maybe next time, Minghao would end up asleep in his own room.

He checked the app while waiting for the elevator. Sure enough, there were already delivery orders made. Groceries (he only ever accepted the small orders), food deliveries, flowers... Seokmin scrolled through for the closest pickup to start. He wouldn't mind the long ride to wherever he was delivering to, but there was a flower shop just down the street that Seokmin always loved making deliveries for. Flowers made people happy, after all. One popped up from someone named Minho for someone named Jinki ("a 'thank you' gift for my hyung"), and Seokmin accepted it without another thought. Soon enough he'd taken the elevator down and set out for the day, pedaling his way to the flower shop.

Jinki had been caught off-guard when Seokmin showed up to his workplace with a vase of sunflowers he'd protected with his life. He passed the message onto the man, and made his way out for the next delivery, bumping into an intern on his way out. He'd apologized to her quickly, and started out for another delivery. A grocery delivery for a single dad who was taking care of a sick kid, another run to a store for cat food for a man who'd run low and couldn't leave his apartment easily with a broken leg, a lunch delivery for a young woman at work... Seokmin went about his day like any other, always greeting people with a smile before moving onto the next thing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted, and immediately went to Jun's restaurant to rest.

Jun wordlessly set a cup of water in front of him. "Push these tables together after you wipe them down," he said. "Cheol will be here soon."

Seokmin had waved him off after agreeing, just enjoying a few minutes of downtime. It wasn't even his job—Where the hell was Mingyu?—but Seungcheol had insisted that it was important. He didn't mind helping out if it made things move a little smoother. He made his way to the back to grab the things he needed, and put himself back to work. The tables were wiped down thoroughly, and Seokmin pushed them together before straightening up. The next time the door chimed, Seungcheol had come in with the brightest smile on his face that Seokmin had ever seen.

"What happened?" He asked, pushing a final chair into place. "Minghao texted to say his soulmate had something come up. I'll let him know the good news tonight, okay?"

Seungcheol made his way over, shedding the light jacket he was wearing. "I should wait until the others get here, but..." He paused, and then shook his head. "No—I'll wait. It's important."

Seokmin stood still for a moment, mind already thrumming with possibilities. "It is good news... Right?"

He nodded. "It's..." His gaze softened a little as his smile fell a little. His happiness was still warm and welcoming, but now felt akin to the tenderness of a warm embrace than the crackling fire it had been before. "It's really good news, Seokmin."

The possibilities dwindled by tens and hundreds. No bad news... Which meant this had to be big. A promotion, or maybe he finally heard back from the graduate program he was trying to get into? Seokmin drummed his fingers along the chair he'd been clutching, before tearing him away from it. People began to file in over the next twenty minutes: Jeonghan and Joshua arriving together, Mingyu bursting into the room loudly (yes, Jun, he saw the restaurant was empty—and yes, he enjoyed resting after work) with Soonyoung coming in just a few minutes later, and eventually Vernon and Chan had joined the table while bemoaning a late bus. Mingyu helped Jun serve food as they caught up on life.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan called out from the other end of the table, a knowing look on his face. “You wanted to tell them something.”

Seungcheol fought back a smile. “I found them.”

Immediately, the room went silent. Vernon was staring at him with wide-eyes, mouth agape. Jeonghan was just smiling, clearly having been informed ahead of time—and the same could be said of Joshua, who had this shit-eating grin on his face.

“Well?” Seungcheol pouted. “You aren’t going to say anything?”

“That’s great!” Seokmin decided to say quickly, and he saw the way Seungcheol then smiled. “Do you want us to keep it a secret, or can I tell Minghao?”

“You can tell him,” Seungcheol waved him off. “I just wanted to tell the rest of you. I told Seungkwan—” He then paused, “Speaking of—All of you are terrible!” He scowled a little. “I told him first and he immediately started sending me pictures of myself in ugly outfits you all swore went together!”

Jeonghan snorted, typing something out on his phone. “We didn’t do it all the time, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled, glancing over to where Jun had settled in the chair next to him. “Remember the shirt he wore to this place’s opening?”

Seungcheol let out another whine. “I didn’t know it was neon! Joshua said it wasn’t that bad!”

“It wasn’t!”

If looks could kill, Joshua would be ash. But Seungcheol had started bickering with him about it (apparently that shirt had been a gift from Joshua… on April fools…), and Seokmin took his chance to steal another dumpling. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it to see it was the app he delivered for—there was someone for a restaurant not that far away. He dismissed it. He could use the money, sure, but… He’d stay at least a little longer. Just to see Seungcheol happy.

Fed up with his debate with Joshua (an immovable object against Seungcheol’s unstoppable force), Seungcheol let the topic go for now. “We’re going out on Tuesday, actually,” he said. “I think you guys will like them. We ended up shopping together for a while and talking—they’re really nice, and…”

Seokmin let his mind drift for a moment as he listened, his own heart sinking in his chest. Everyone seemed to be finding their soulmate over this past year. He looked at Jun for a moment. That meant he was the only one who hadn’t found his soulmate yet, right? He couldn’t imagine being the last person, but Jun seemed to be taking it well. Soonyoung, just as Seokmin did, went out on the occasional date—hell, both of them had dated a bit recently before deciding to prioritize other things for a bit. But it was weird knowing that he was going to be on his own now. Even Vernon and Jihoon ended up having soulmates. Seokmin had wanted to hold out hope that maybe that meant he had one, too, but…

The door opened, and in walked someone who looked at the group with wide-eyes. “Sorry—I thought this was still open—”

“It is!” Jun said, getting up and making his way toward the counter. “Sorry, how can I help you?”

The customer had started rambling about their friend, Minho, having been here a few days ago. Seokmin listened as they explained their own soulmate sign—the same as Jun’s—and he felt his feelings swirl inside of him. The computer chirped, and Seokmin moved to see that it was a takeout request. With permission from Jun, Seokmin accepted it and immediately went to snag the delivery request himself. He’d be back before the hour was over, and it’d give him some time to clear his mind. The customer had gone to an empty table, and Jun disappeared into the back to start cooking both their food and the order that Seokmin left hanging on the line.

“Hey.” Vernon had made his way over to the counter, voice lower, “Everything okay?”

Seokmin nodded, quietly sliding a fortune cookie across the counter. “I’m going to make a delivery,” he said. “Just to get some air.”

Vernon slowly nodded, immediately getting it. He’d stepped out when his own struggles were getting to him before he found his own soulmate, after all. “Gotcha. Is it a good tip?”

Seokmin glanced at the screen. Not really, but he didn’t mind: it was a small order and he wasn’t going far. It was better than no tip, at least. “Yeah,” he lied. “I could use the extra money.”

Vernon knew he was lying. But he nodded again, tucking the cookie into his hoodie pocket. “Travel safe, dude.”

All too quickly, Jun had plated the food. Mingyu had dipped into the back, delivering the dishes to the customer that sat alone, and Jun sat next to Seokmin. He’d uncapped a sharpie with his teeth, drawing a little cat onto the corner of the plate alongside a flower. Above it, he’d written some message of encouragement—all a part of the order’s request.

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun capped the marker again. “If you don’t want to go.”

Seokmin shrugged it off. “It isn’t far.” He paused, “Plus my bike is outside. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Jun hadn’t responded, brows drawing together. He looked over to the customer in the room, watching as they ate for a moment.

“Jun?”

He took a step away, realization spreading over his features. “Sorry, I just—” He walked away, quietly greeting the customer. Seokmin watched as he rounded the other chair, hands curling around the top of it as he said something… and soon Seokmin knew.

So he packed away the meal, tying the bag, and confirmed that the order was on its way. He’d congratulate Jun later on finding his soulmate. But now, he just needed to get out before the heat and smell of spice suffocated him. He grabbed his bike, unlocked it, and took off toward the towering building not that far into the city. It was all too easy to get into the building and get pointed toward the right floor. Normally, he’d leave it here, but he decided to waste a few minutes heading upstairs.

A young man had greeted him, breaking away from where his coworkers were gathered around pizza. One of them had already heckled him for being the one person to order something out, but it all seemed to be in good faith. The guy—Soobin, according to the app—had thanked him, quickly enough. Someone bumped into Seokmin as he was waiting for Soobin to hand him a cash tip (something he’d insisted upon), and Seokmin felt his heart leap. Maybe he’d text Jun and apologize and head home instead. Things were… off.

Jun didn’t hold it against him when he did. All he did was wish him a good night, and Seokmin was thankful for it.

There was a text from Seungcheol in the group chat: dinner at jun's? i'm paying :)

Which was odd. Seungcheol had already treated them out last night, so why invite them out again? What was he going to announce—a marriage proposal? Seokmin was still half asleep as he pushed himself out of bed. He'd agree to be there after he ate breakfast. He skipped it yesterday and soon regretted it. Yet the moment he stepped out of his bedroom, he saw Minghao asleep on the couch again. He sighed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way over.

"Minghao, your bed is more comfortable," he nudged him awake. "Two nights in a row? Really?"

Minghao had furrowed his brow upon waking up, staring up at him. "Two...? What are you talking about?"

Seokmin walked away, stretching as he went. "Didn't you fall asleep here the other night?"

With a confused look, he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. He stretched before reaching for his phone, looking down to see the new message on it. "What does Cheol want...? It's short notice and he knows it."

Seokmin looked up, already growing more confused. "He found his soulmate. Don't you remember? I told you when I got back last night."

"You were asleep when I got in." Minghao frowned at him. "When did he tell you?"

"Last night when we..." He trailed off, looking at his phone more clearly now. It was Friday, but yesterday had been Friday. He knew it, because he'd lived it. "We had dinner with a couple of the others, and..."

Minghao folded his jacket over his arms, and it was now that Seokmin realized this had been what he'd seen Minghao wearing on Thursday night. "You must be psychic or something," he made his way toward his room. "Don't ruin the surprise. Cheol will never let you hear the end of it if you do."

Yesterday was Friday. Seokmin knew that yesterday was Friday. So why the hell was it Friday again? Maybe he'd dreamed the entire thing. Was that a sign? He'd look into it later. Food and work would come first. He'd start looking into it when he showed up to Jun's restaurant tonight.

Sure enough, every single order he'd filled yesterday was right there today. Seokmin accepted those, too: maybe his dream meant something.

Sure enough, the night played out the same. Seungcheol announced having a soulmate. The others teased him over the past outfits he’d worn. Joshua poked fun at a neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate came into the restaurant. And Seokmin accepted that same takeout order. This time he had almost avoided the person coming in, and he’d given them a strange look when they turned back to acknowledge him this time. Again, they apologized to him after a moment before going on, checking their phone.

And then he went to sleep, and, again, it was Friday.

Around the fifth Friday he lived through, Seokmin realized a few things. He’d already figured out that he both met his soulmate and missed them (he Googled a lot that third Friday), and that he just needed to find them to break the loop. Every single day, he tried to fill the same delivery orders. He tried to go to the same places at the same time. He met the same people most of the time—he’d already missed that final order twice now, snatched up by someone else while he was trying to figure out what was wrong.

But that was… beyond several Fridays ago. This was Friday number fifteen, and he’d managed to exact a few things. Minghao had given him something to say to prove that, yes, Seokmin was trapped in a time loop (details of his date the night before, followed by a quick enough explanation that Minghao knew wasn’t bullshit by the panic in his voice), and it’d given him an ally in every repeat day. He’d slipped up and spoiled Seungcheol’s surprise during one of the loops and given up on finding his soulmate that time. It didn’t feel fair to potentially let that be the day.

Minghao filled a cup with ice and water. “You’re not trying to make the day perfect though, right? Because you’re going to just prolong it if you do.”

“I’m not.” Seokmin had stretched out across their couch, arms resting over his stomach. He didn’t have to leave for another few minutes. “I just didn’t want to find them after I ruined Seungcheol’s surprise.”

“He doesn’t remember now, though,” he shrugged. “Try to find them soon, though. You seem tired.”

“I am.”

Minghao came over to him, extending the glass to him. “Then get out there and keep looking.”

“I have to stick to the schedule, though,” Seokmin accepted the glass as he sat up. “Otherwise I’ll keep missing them.”

“Remember what we all said?” Minghao crossed his arms. “You’ll know them when you see them.”

Seokmin moved over, giving Minghao space to sit next to him. “I don’t know what that means.”

“When I saw my soulmate, I…” He pressed his lips together, looking toward the windows for a moment. “I felt like I was at peace.” Again, he paused, thinking over his words. “Like… I was ready to try to love them. To learn more about them and see why they were my soulmate.”

That night, Seokmin posed the question of how they all knew while sitting at dinner with the others. He mouthed an apology to Soonyoung for asking a question neither of them (to his knowledge) would ever understand, but he didn’t seem all too bothered by it. The group had gone quiet, all thinking about their individual answers. And as Seokmin expected, Seungcheol had his the soonest.

“I didn’t feel anything special until I caught them,” he admitted, looking at Seokmin. “But when I did… It felt like everything was right. Like… Everything had been leading to that moment. I was where I needed to be, I think. As much as I wanted to meet them sooner, I think we found each other at the right time.”

Jeonghan nodded along to it, a soft hum sounding from him as he agreed with every sentence. “Right. I know I’m different because I’ve always known mine, but… I felt like I’d found the missing piece in my life. I know that’s sappy to say,” he laughed softly, “but it’s true. I’ve loved them this long, you know?”

Vernon had pressed his lips together. And a moment later, he nodded, too. “Right. I’d liked them for a while, but I think realizing that our sign had been right there the entire time… It all just made sense—”

“You literally made out with them immediately, don’t act all sentimental,” Chan rolled his eyes. “But… I felt this pull when I met them. Their friend had caught me, but it still felt like something was pulling me toward them.”

“Right, right…” Mingyu nodded along to that. “It felt like things were right in this way I can’t describe.”

Joshua hummed to himself, the sole person without an answer yet. He raked his fingers through his hair before meeting Seokmin’s gaze. “Maybe I’m just weird, but I didn’t really have anything like that. Like… I knew I was about to meet them since we’d agreed to meet up at a coffee shop, but the most I felt was this comfortable warmth. Like, we’d grown up sharing this experience together. It just felt like I met someone who understood me in some way.”

Seokmin noted down everything in his mind. A feeling of things being right, or a pull toward someone, or even that he’d found something he’d always been missing (although maybe without realizing it, if it were to apply to him).

Yet he went to bed that night, woke up to another Friday, and wondered if he had broken something along the way.

Online forums helped plenty. He made and remade an account and the same post since around Friday number eight, always getting the same people chiming in and believing in him. You’ll find them soon! He’d always say how many Fridays he’d repeated, and yet there was always the same encouragement. Today was Friday number seventeen. Every single day, Seokmin woke up to the same situation. A new account, a new post. Seungcheol’s text. The same deliveries, the same thanks. The same breaks for lunch, including texting Mingyu about meeting up for coffee sometime (he hadn’t made it yet, but he was determined to). The people on the forums had told him the same thing his friends did: he would know his soulmate when he saw them.

So why was he so antsy today?

He’d shown up to Jun’s restaurant at the same time, wiping down the tables in record speed before relaxing with his cup of ice water. He listened to the clamor of pans in the back as Jun cooked for another table, eyes fluttering shut as he sighed. Friday number seventeen, and he wasn’t getting any closer, was he? Over two weeks and he’d found little ways to break up the monotony when he could. No one he delivered to was his soulmate. No one in that Jinki guy’s office had faced a repeat day (he’d done the stupid thing and stood up during day twelve and asked out loud, and he was thankful no one would remember it by midnight). No one in any of the stores he went to, either (again, day fourteen he did the same as he did with Jinki’s work). And he’d delivered to Soobin faster than ever before, only to receive no answer when he asked yesterday.

So where was his soulmate?

Seungcheol arrived soon enough, smiling as brightly as ever. The others filed in over time, too. Jeonghan and Joshua arrived together once more, always talking about some movie they were still debating about the real meaning of. Mingyu made a big deal stretching and bragging about his short break at home with his soulmate—he’d bring the back takeout afterward. Soonyoung burst into the restaurant soon enough, always talking about how he was tired of his office being short on staff. Then Vernon and Chan, bemoaning their late bus as always, joined the table soon enough. Seokmin had known the following conversation by heart: Seungcheol announcing that he found his soulmate, followed by him pouting when no one immediately said anything. Seokmin always found himself being the first to congratulate him, saying he’d pass word along to Minghao if he wanted. Seungkwan sent Seungcheol all of the ugly outfits they’d lovingly tricked him into wearing over the years (never for serious events—always for a stupid get-together with the full group). The neon shirt. Jun’s soulmate would be there soon. They always came in at the exact same time…

Jun reached out, fingers brushing against Seokmin’s bicep and tearing his eyes away from his watch. “Are you okay?” His voice was soft enough to not alert the others, and Seokmin barely paid him any mind at first.

“Just waiting for something.” He paused, then realized that he was the only person present who knew of his situation. He looked up, shaking his head as he turned to Jun. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m fine. Just…” He glanced at the door for a moment. Any moment now. “Waiting.”

Seungcheol spoke up again about his soulmate, and Seokmin was thankful for the change in topic. He’d explain it all in due time. Hopefully today would give him another do-over and he wouldn’t worry Jun. Soon enough, the door jingled, and Seokmin rose up out of his chair. Jun’s soulmate was here, which meant the order from Soobin would be coming in soon. He’d made his way over to the computer, tapping at the edge of it as he waited impatiently. Soon. Soon. Jun had stood up, excusing himself from the group to unknowingly speak to his soulmate.

“Sorry,” Jun’s soulmate had said to him, and he slid them a menu without much thought. “My friend, Minho, came here with a couple of friends…”

Seconds passed with each tap of Seokmin’s finger. Soobin’s order. Always steamed pork buns and fried rice and some sort of beef or pork (the only thing that might change—the tiniest change that didn’t affect anything). He pressed his lips tighter together. Tomorrow, he’d start from the top. He’d ask everyone. He’d tell everyone that he was stuck in a time loop. Minghao would help him convince them all. If they knew that Seokmin was looking for his soulmate, they would help.

The computer chimed. Seokmin tapped the order, reading over it. Steamed pork buns. Fried rice. Beef. And…

And more?

He hesitated to accept it, glancing over to Jun and his soulmate. “Jun. There’s a request for takeout.” He paused for just a second, “I’m gonna confirm it, alright?”

Jun waved him on, and Seokmin felt his heart hammering in his chest as the ticket printed out. He made his way to the kitchen, clipping it to the line for Jun to refer to. This had to be a sign. You were there. You had to be there, right? No one ever changed their order like this. His brows knit together. Had he done something to set off some sort of butterfly effect? Was he just giving himself false hope now? He wanted out of this loop, soulmate or no soulmate. He’d lived this Friday seventeen times now, and all he wanted was to wake up on Saturday morning and go get coffee with Mingyu because Mingyu was offering. Mingyu would pay for a slice of cake or whatever dessert he wanted, too. And at this point, Seokmin had earned the same thing.

“Is everything okay?” Jun had approached him, keeping his voice low—again, mindful of what little privacy they had with so many of their friends present. “You seem… different.”

He shook his head. No need to worry him yet. “The ticket’s on the line,” he couldn’t stop staring at the screen now. An extra order. For what? For who? Jun hadn’t budged. Seokmin decided to lie: “Just… thought I recognized the name.”

Thankfully, Jun shrugged it off. Mingyu had made his way to the kitchens to help, and Seokmin held himself together. He would not get his hopes up. Not too high. This could be it, or it could be some sort of butterfly effect. He took a different way to the store earlier, after all. Wasn’t that what the whole thing was based around? Small actions having bigger impacts? Wonwoo would know. He was smart, he’d probably read about it. Maybe he’d ask Wonwoo about it on Friday number eighteen, if he woke up on Friday again.

The food was made and plated before Seokmin knew, and he watched as Jun uncapped a sharpie with his teeth. He’d drawn a little cat onto the corner of one of the lids—the unfamiliar order, Seokmin realized—and then drew a little flower next to it. He’d always done it for Soobin’s order. Would that change things, too…?

“Someone else could pick up the order,” Jun said as he re-capped the marker. “If you don’t want to go.”

“No!” Seokmin paused. When did he get so desperate? He waved a hand, trying to act casual again. “I mean—The money is good, and my bike is outside.” Please don’t push. “I’ll try to be back to help clean up.” But if this is it, I won’t. I can’t. Please understand. Seokmin tied the bag tight after throwing in a few sets of utensils and more than enough fortune cookies. He picked up the bag, stopping to turn back to Jun.

His soulmate was right there, and Jun hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe…

“Jun?”

Jun looked up from where he’d begun to tidy up behind the counter, that same earnest look on his face. Seokmin always wondered what he looked like when he realized that person was his soulmate. Even when he missed being able to deliver Soobin’s order, he tried to go out, to retrace his steps and hopefully run into his soulmate. Then again… Would telling him throw things off even further? Or would Jun even want for him to tell him?

Seokmin opened his mouth, then closed it a moment later. He turned, looking at Jun’s soulmate. They were sitting alone, about to break into their meal. Jun would know soon enough. And… if it were him, Seokmin wouldn’t want to have the moment given to him like this. He turned back to Jun one last time. “Actually… Don’t worry about it. I’ll be back later.”

He could see the concern on Jun’s face, clear as day. No doubt he would be calling him come morning. Seokmin made his way out of the restaurant, waving to the others and saying he’d try to be back as soon as he could. Soon enough, he’d unlocked the bike lock and tucked it into his bag, strapping on his helmet. He’d biked this path so many times he knew it by heart, no need to keep track of his location through his phone’s map. He left his bike near the doors in the lobby, the way he always did when the secretary let him into the building. The elevator ride felt shorter than normal, and Seokmin found himself hesitating. He could hear Soobin and his coworkers talking in the other room.

He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way forward. Soobin lit up when he saw him. Again, he was heckled by another coworker for ordering something else, and Soobin waved them off.

“I’m not the only one,” he’d said this time. “They’re—” He paused, looking around, only to roll his eyes. “They’re in the bathroom still—”

“I’m here!”

Your shoulder bumped against Seokmin as you rushed in, and Seokmin felt his heart leap. It was you. You’d bumped into him that first day while Soobin was giving him the cash tip he’d insisted on. And now you were pulling out your own wallet, insisting on covering a cash tip since Soobin hadn’t tipped enough on the app. You’d been rambling about how today you felt like something other than pizza, and…

“It’s you.”

You looked up, blinking as you stared at Seokmin. “Me…?” And then it clicked, those pretty eyes lighting up with realization. “You—” You had gasped, eyes already growing teary. “You’re—”

Seokmin could kiss you now, relief flooding every single cell in his body. He’d dropped the bag onto Soobin’s desk, ignoring the way the guy dove to make sure nothing spilled, and stepped forward. You had immediately wrapped your arms around him, squeezing him tight. Something felt right about it all, like his life had come together in a way he never knew it could have. The rest of your coworkers had gone quiet, and Seokmin had let himself cry a little.

“I’ve been looking for you,” he said, voice wavering. He held you tighter, “I—I almost thought I wouldn’t find you.”

You said nothing and just let yourself cry out of relief.

When you finally pulled away, it was to tell your coworkers that you needed to leave soon. You knew just as well as he did that the two of you needed to be together when midnight struck, and you weren’t going to work through the entire night. Not with Seokmin right there with you. It seemed to renew the energy in your team as all of you got to work. You pulled a chair over for Seokmin to sit near you while he waited, and he took the chance to text a few things out:

To Minghao: I’ll see you saturday

To Jun: I’ll explain tomorrow :) don’t worry about me. I’m okay now.

And to Seungcheol: I found them.

You had paused for a moment, looking at Seokmin curiously. After a moment, you caught yourself staring, and grew flustered. “Sorry. Just… What do you want to do? We've got some time to kill until midnight, so...”

Seokmin had been living his life adhering to routine. From childhood to adulthood to the past seventeen Fridays, everything had a time and place for him to be. So he just smiled at you, rolling his chair a little closer to you: “Whatever you want to do.” He paused, deciding to go all in on being cheesy. “Let’s follow our hearts this time, okay?”

And you, who had found routine over and over in your own life, smiled and made living on repeat worth it with that smile.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen fluff #seokmin fluff #dk fluff #dokyeom fluff #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #happy april fools! (posts a real fic completely seriously)

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happiest-hotch · 1 year

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Dinner for Three

Summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (fluff)

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: a very slight sexual reference

You're slightly disappointed when you get Aaron's call.

He'd left the BAU early that night to pick you up for your 8 pm dinner date. It hadn't worked, and he texted you something cryptic about a new case involving a longer-running case that concerned the team's technical analyst.

As always, he was incredibly apologetic, calling you as soon as he had a chance, but you don't mind. You know how important his job is and the sacrifices he has to make. Plus, the other times this has happened, he more than made it up to you, proving to be the sweet boyfriend you know he is.

He texts you the next night to let you know they're still working, but he's okay and in Virginia. It's so late that you don't get a chance to text him back until the morning, and you're just hoping he got some sleep during the night, but it doesn't seem likely.

On the second night, he's more upbeat, delivering the good news about his case closing. Oddly, you don't get another message that he's on his way into DC.

With your own profiling effort, you deduce he went to the BAU and got stuck into his paperwork, no doubt putting eating and sleeping at the bottom of his priority list. As a diligent girlfriend, you're walking out the door of your apartment to force him to leave to get something to eat before you can overthink about having never been to his office or the possibility he might not want to see you.

After making it through security and proving who you're there to see, you take the elevator to the sixth floor. It's dead silent, probably because it's close to 10 at night.

Aside from the fluorescent overhead lights in the bullpen and the corridor, the only other light on is an office on the left after you step off the elevator.

It has to be Aaron's since he's most likely the only one here, you reason as you walk toward the door. Gently you tap on the doorframe, but the woman inside definitely isn't your boyfriend.

There are personal belongings in the office, clothing, and boxes scattered on the sofa and table, and two suitcases on the floor, like someone's been living out of the office, and judging by the jacket's pattern, it could be the woman in the room.

She jumps when she sees you, and you quickly apologize. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

She shakes her head. "No. No, it's okay."

Then you realize it's weird that you're just standing there without an explanation, a total stranger. "I'm looking for Aaron Hotchner."

Nervousness flashes across her features. "Agent Hotchner is due back soon. Sorry, who are you?"

It's a question you expected, knowing you might bump into other agents, despite hoping you wouldn't. Aaron has told you about how he keeps his personal life, and therefore you, further away from his professional life than he used to, and you're not sure he'd want his team to know who you are.

You also should have anticipated the suspicion in her voice since people out there want to hurt them and could find their way into the offices to do so.

"His...friend." You settle on. It doesn't even sound right to say anymore. "Although, if he said that about me, he'd be in trouble." You joke mostly to yourself.

She looks more excited now, grinning like a little kid who's found a secret block of chocolate. "I'm Penelope Garcia, the BAU's technical analyst."

"Oh, of course. Aaron talks a lot about you." You tell her, putting a face to the stories as you shake her hand. "I'm Y/n L/n."

"The reason he smiles every time he checks his phone nowadays?" She asks, now eager.

Heat rises to your cheeks. You've seen the smile Penelope's talking about when you catch Aaron looking at you before he bashfully looks away. It's adorable and heartwarming to think about him doing it around his colleagues and probably trying to hide it.

"Sometimes." You downplay it. "It could be him getting a picture of Jack."

She shakes her head. "No, he shows us those. Texts ding on his phone, and he tries to hide his smile, and that's how we know it's not BAU-related. Theories about what they are and who they're from is the hottest gossip around here."

"It better be me then." You say, although you have no doubts that it is. "Otherwise, he's got some explaining to do."

Penelope laughs lightly. "Don't worry. He's about as loyal as they come."

You had come to that conclusion by yourself, but it's good to have it verified by someone who has known him for over a decade.

She catches your eyes wandering around the room and explains it. "I don't know how much you know, but I'm on lockdown here until further notice."

"Aaron mentioned it vaguely." You tell her. "I'm sorry. It must suck." It's not the most aesthetically pleasing home with bleak concert walls, generic lamps, and no closet. She's provided you with information about Aaron's whereabouts and character, so it's your turn to try and help her. "This couch wouldn't look as bad with some sheets, and I'm sure you've got some decorations. I can help. Only if you'd like, no pressure."

Instantly, she sees the optimistic side of you that Aaron admires and loves. "Yeah." Penelope agrees slowly. "Thank you."

She hasn't wanted to take anything out of her bags because it means this nightmare would be real, but you're offering to help, and she realizes she could do with a friend. If she happened to stumble across information about her boss during the process, then so be it.

You help her brighten up the room, complimenting her comfort decorations.

"So, what's it like to be in a relationship with Aaron Hotchner?" She asks you as she fluffs the throw pillows on the couch, and you hang fairy lights.

After ten minutes of non-Aaron-related talk, you know she's been refraining from asking questions about your relationship.

"Amazing." You answer effortlessly. "He's..." You trail off from your sentence when someone clears their throat, and you turn around to see your handsome but tired-looking boyfriend standing in the doorway. "Hey."

His expression softens seeing you there, but his features show confusion. "Hey." He returns while acknowledging Penelope with a nod as he steps further into the room. The hand not holding his briefcase comes to rest on your lower back, and you lean into his warmth. "What are you doing here?"

You weren't expecting him to show you physical affection in front of people he knows, but it's a welcomed surprise. "I thought I'd come and convince you not to sit at your desk doing paperwork all night."

He avoids being very unprofessional and asking exactly how you planned to distract him since you're under the careful observation of Penelope, who's memorizing your interaction to repeat to the team tomorrow.

"There are still a few things we need to go over, Garcia," Aaron says to her. About the case they just closed, you figure, but it can't be overwhelmingly good news because he wouldn't stretch out telling her that she's safe. "Are you going to be okay?"

You admire her bravery as she nods with tears filling her vision. "I'm gonna make myself a vegetarian omelet for dinner." She says before pausing. "Do you both want to stay?" She quickly backtracks. "Forget that. You've probably got places to be, sorry."

Aaron looks to you for your judgment, and although he's letting you decide since this would typically be time you two spend together, there's an answer he would prefer.

"No, we've got nothing planned, and I'm starving." You confirm. Penelope's face lights up, the sadness she's holding onto about her new living quarters feeling less heavy. "Do you have jalapenos?"

"Do I have jalapenos?" She repeats, suggesting an obvious answer. She moved to grab the ingredients. "I should let you know that I have had a love affair with all things hot and spicy since I was, like, 12."

You smile at her delight as Aaron takes the chopping board she handed him with a bowl full of jalapenos. "Maybe the more important question is will you judge me for putting them on my food even if they make me cry a little?" You ask, nudging Aaron, who knows the incident you're referencing.

She looks at him in horror before turning back to you. "Is there any other way to eat them?" She asks.

"Someone." You nod to Aaron, who's getting to work on his task. "Eats spicy food without even tearing up."

He snorts out a laugh. "You weren't crying 'a little.'" He reminds you, defending himself playfully. "It was full-on crying with mascara tracks down your cheeks. You should have seen her, Penelope." He continues. "Seriously, I thought we were about to get kicked out of that restaurant. The waitress was so concerned." He laughs at the memory. He concluded that night that your crying with pleasure tendency is much better when it's only the two of you.

You lightly hit him on the shoulder to scold him before letting your hand linger to test the boundaries. He relaxes under your touch, muscles relaxing a little.

"It's a natural reaction." You jokingly argue back. "I'm on a spicy food ban at restaurants now." You inform Penelope.

"Oh, you've got to come to the next pasta night at Rossi's." She tells you. "It's the best food you can get, no jalapenos involved."

You look to Aaron for permission, not wanting to agree to something if he doesn't want you around his friends. He smiles lightly at you, now knowing introducing you and merging two parts of his life isn't as risky as he thought it might be.

"I'd love that." You agree. "Ready for that, Aaron?"

"Please agree." Penelope jumps in. "They'll love her. Don't worry." She assures you. "I'll make sure the team knows how perfect you are for him."

Aaron chuckles beside you. "I don't doubt that."

There's a double meaning that you and Aaron catch. Most obviously, Aaron knows the team will find out about your dinner together and probably learn every detail about you that they can before you officially meet, and additionally, he doesn't have any doubts that you're perfect for him.

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mmavverickk · 1 year

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theoretically, i understand the appeal of having percy, annabeth, and grover go to college. annabeth wants to be an architect, percy wants to be with annabeth, and grover's gonna need some kind of degree backing his environmental preservation efforts. but like, i just can't see it happening.

annabeth was tasked with redesigning olympus after the destruction of the second titan war. that project is her child. she eats, sleeps, and breathes her designs for the palace. as soon as she graduates high school, that is her number one priority. this is her monument that will last forever, this is what her hubris is driving her to accomplish. college and mortal qualifications can wait until she's finished, until olympus is perfect, until her designs are real and tangible and ready to last a thousand ages, until she's made her mother proud and her father regret pushing her aside. and if she's building a family on the side, one strong enough to withstand two wars, one who will never leave her, never let her fall alone? that will last, too.

percy never had a childhood. he can barely remember a life before his abusive stepfather gabe, before he had to grow up too fast to protect himself and his mom. he never got to celebrate getting rid of the bastard, because by then he'd been thrown headfirst into the mythological world, into the expectations that come with being a child of the big three. he's twelve years old and already the fate of the world is in his hands, and he won't fail. he's fourteen, and the weight of the world rests on his shoulders, turns his hair grey. he's sixteen, and he has to make a choice, to trust someone who had betrayed him time and time again, but he doesn't know if the outcome of that choice will be the end of the world or its only hope. he graduates high school, having lived longer than he'd ever dreamed, and does not immediately throw himself into college. it's time to experience the world that he's sacrificed so much for.

grover is the lord of the wild. he spent his whole life searching for the one being who could save the planet, could keep it whole and healthy and alive. he found him, found pan, and had his hopes crushed. pan was dying. he was giving up on the planet and the people who'd believed in him for millennia. pan put all of their hopes on grover's shoulders, made it his responsibility. he stepped up to the challege, used his passion for searching and made it passion for fixing. he started immediately, despite how dire the situation was, despite all the others telling him he was wrong, that pan was still out there, that he needed to believe in a dead god. yes, he needs to find a way to get the mortals to see the effect they're having on the wild, on the environment, on the planet, but first he needs to find out how bad things truly are. he's traveled north america, he's gathered nymphs and dryads and spirits for war against the titans, but north america isn't the only place in danger. the world is his domain, and grover will rise to the challenge.

#mav.txt #annabeth chase #percy jackson #grover underwood #pjo headcanon #pjo #chalice of the gods #is this angst?#i wrote it so it has to be #angst #og trio #lord of the wild grover underwood #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson headcanon #heroes of olympus

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octoberclidan · 1 month

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I Only Want You

Request: My request is a story about a reader who has been in love with Sam for a long time, but she is insecure. When Sam starts training other hunters, she hears a conversation from another hunter saying that she is interested in Sam. The reader thinks that Sam also likes this huntress. This huntress realizes that Sam is in love with the reader and lies to her saying that Sam asked her out on a date, trying to keep them apart. However, they manage to overcome this and confess their feelings.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was in the passenger seat of the Impala for a change. Sam was driving, and Dean was asleep in the back. [Y/N] rarely got to sit up front when both brothers were present, but Dean had been sent to the back of the car by Sam in the late hours of the night. They'd finished up a hunt late the previous evening, but couldn't find a motel with any vacancy, so had decided to drive through the night to get home. About four hours in, Sam had noticed Dean veering off to the side, and when he looked over, Dean was obviously finding it difficult to keep his eyes open. So, Sam had made him, with much effort, pull over and get into the back, giving [Y/N] the opportunity to sit up front.

[Y/N] was tired too. Not quite asleep, but she'd let her eyes close and had one of the boys' flannels wedged between her head and the passenger door. There was no music playing, but she could hear Sam humming quietly as he drove, tapping the steering wheel with his fingers. It had been a warm day, and although it had cooled down during the night, the air was still humid. The humidity and Sam's humming, along with the length of the day, was sending [Y/N] to sleep. Sam glanced over to her, watching her features illuminate as they passed a street lamp, and he smiled to himself. He then glanced into the rearview mirror, spotting Dean, slouched against the back seat and snoring quietly. Sam sighed in content, feeling nothing but comfort with his present company, even if they weren't interacting. [Y/N] had only come into Sam and Dean's lives a year ago, but she meant everything to them.

***

The sun had risen by the time Sam pulled into the bunker's garage, stirring [Y/N]. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, yawning as she recognised the familiar room. She looked back at Dean, who was still snoring, and she smiled as Sam chuckled. He held his finger up to his lips and she nodded in understanding, carefully and quietly opening her door to get out without disturbing him. Sam and [Y/N] made their way to the kitchen, not speaking until they got there. "How long do you think he'll be out?" She asked as she sat down at the table, and Sam made his way to the coffee machine.

"As long as he needs, he has a lot of catching up to do".

"I don't know how he functions on three or four hours of sleep a night. I'm surprised he wasn't falling asleep on the hunt", she said.

"Yeah, he's used to it", Sam shrugged, walking over to the table and handing her a mug. She quickly wrapped her hands around it and took a sip.

"Thanks", she sighed.

"Hey, I actually wanted to talk to you about something", Sam said as he sat down opposite her with a mug of his own. She felt her heart beat speed up a little. She'd imagined Sam saying something like that to her, followed by his confession that he wanted her. She knew it wasn't likely, but her heart still had hope.

"Yeah?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

"Dean got a call from Bobby yesterday, apparently there's this group of relatively new hunters near him", Sam took a sip from his drink. "Their apartment complex was trashed by a vengeful spirit, they all saw it, and now they want to be hunters. Bobby said there's three of them, and they're clueless. He ran into them on a werewolf case, nearly got themselves killed. He wanted to see if we'd be open to taking them in and training them up".

"Oh", [Y/N] nodded, trying to sound interested, but hiding her disappointment. "And... are we? Open to taking them in?" She asked.

"Dean and I wouldn't mind", he shrugged. "So it's up to you. They'd probably be here for a couple months. If you'd rather not have them here that's fine too, it's your space before it's theirs".

"Yeah, no of course I'd be open to it", she nodded. She would've preferred not to take them in, she quite liked the home she had in the bunker with the Winchesters, and occasionally Cas, but it sounded like they really needed some training and she didn't want to be the one to stand in the way.

"Cool", Sam smiled. "I'll talk to Dean when he wakes up. It might be nice to have some more people around for awhile, it can be quiet with just the three of us", he chuckled, standing up to wash his mug. She couldn't help but feel a tiny bit hurt by that, like just having her and Dean around wasn't enough for Sam, like she was too boring for him.

"Yeah", she breathed out, shaking off the hurt and standing up to wash her mug too. He smiled as he walked past her, heading out towards his room. She sighed as she scrubbed her mug at the sink, wondering if someone like Sam could ever have feelings for someone like her, feelings stronger than just friendship. Maybe it was for the better though, a relationship could complicate things since they lived and worked together, and she didn't want to lose either him or Dean.

***

"So, this is Sarah, Will, and Owen", Dean introduced the new hunters to Sam and [Y/N], guiding them into the bunker's library. He had driven off to go get them early in the morning, and [Y/N] and Sam had been getting rooms ready for them. "This is my brother Sam, and this is [Y/N]", he said, pointing to each of them.

"Hey", Owen nodded at the two of them.

"So you're all seasoned professionals in this hunting business, huh?" Will asked. [Y/N] thought he had a kind smile. He was small, pretty thin, and didn't really look like the hunters she knew.

"Yeah, I mean, there's always room to improve", Sam said, gesturing around at the books on the shelves. "There's a lot of information out there, and in here".

"This place looks huge", Sarah said. "How many people live here?"

"It's just the three of us", Dean said. "We've plenty of room though".

"Yeah, and we're happy to share what we know with you", Sam smiled at Sarah, and [Y/N] saw her blush. She felt a little bit anxious, like she was under threat, but she quickly pushed that feeling down, telling herself not to be territorial over Sam, that he wasn't hers. "Why don't I show you to your rooms? You can unpack, we'll probably get take out for dinner". [Y/N] caught Dean's eye as Sam spoke and he winked at her; obviously the take out was Dean's idea of a welcoming. "Here, let me take that", Sam smiled again as he reached out for Sarah's bag, and she smiled back at him. [Y/N] thought there was a bit too much smiling going on just between the two of them. He didn't offer to take Will or Owen's bags. [Y/N] watched as Sam led them out of the room towards the bedrooms, and Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"What?"

"You look worried about something", he shrugged and she shook her head.

"Nope, not worried about anything", she looked down at the stack of books on the table and began to pretend to be distracted by looking through them.

"Okay... well, the three of them seemed okay on the drive here. They're enthusiastic, but clearly need training, both physical and lore".

"Yeah", she agreed. "How long do you think they'll be here?"

"Two or three months? We'll just get them a bit fitter and give them the basics on how to go about finding answers in the lore. This isn't a permanent thing anyway".

"You don't think the bunker is too quiet, with just the three of us?" [Y/N] asked, echoing Sam's words from the day before.

"Do you?" Dean asked, folding his arms and looking down at her, watching as she shook her head. "Yeah, neither do I. I think the three of us plus Cas sometimes is fine the way it is". His words brought [Y/N] a bit of comfort, it felt like Dean was on her team, even though they were all supposed to be on the same team, and it wasn't open to new applicants.

***

The next few weeks were a lot more structured and organised than life usually was at the bunker. Sam had the three new hunters out for runs every morning, then they'd all have breakfast together in the kitchen, answering any questions that popped up on lore, and then they'd spend a couple of hours researching before lunch. Dean usually excused himself from the research part of the day, electing to go on supply runs or work on his car by himself. After lunch was usually focused on physical training, with the boys and [Y/N] coming up with different scenarios they'd found themselves in on hunts, and teaching the three hunters how to defend themselves or save others. They'd even taken the three of them out on a simple salt and burn case too. It hadn't gone as well as it should have, but it could've been worse too.

"So throwing holy water on vampires will burn them, right?" Sarah asked while she was taking a break from training to drink some water. She had come over to the corner of the training room where [Y/N] was looking through some of her notes.

"No, holy water won't do anything to vampires", [Y/N] shook her head. She was frustrated with Sarah. She didn't seem to really be taking anything seriously and was more focused on getting Sam's attention in any way possible. Sarah had seen more of Sam since she got here than [Y/N] had. She was constantly touching his arm, twirling her hair, and acting cute around him. [Y/N] had started to avoid them, only seeing them for a few training sessions over the last week or two.

"It's dead man's blood that weakens vampires, and you can't just throw it at them, you have to inject them".

"Right... so what's holy water for then?"

"Demons".

"Hey, you two talking about demons? I don't think we've covered them yet, they're kind of an advanced subject", Sam said as he walked over to the two of them, brushing his hair back with his hand and wiping a thin layer of sweat from his forehead.

"Yeah I just thought I'd do a bit of research on my own. [Y/N] was just saying how you can throw holy water at vampires, but I'm pretty sure it's demons, right? And for vampires it's dead man's blood?"

[Y/N] stared at her, open-mouthed. She felt an anger start to grow within her at Sarah's lie, and she was about to ask her what on earth she was talking about when she saw Sam smiling. "Yeah, that's right! It's good you're doing your own research too". He lightly tapped her arm in encouragement and she smiled up at him. "Let's get back to it, I want to show you and the others a couple more moves with the knives".

She watched as Sarah followed behind Sam back to where Dean was showing Will and Owen how best to hold a blade. She no longer felt like she was in the mood to teach anyone, so she grabbed her towel to wipe her face and left the room.

***

[Y/N] had showered and was laying on her bed, scrolling through her phone when there was a knock on the door. She sighed before looking up at it and pushing herself off the bed. She dragged her feet towards the door, not in the mood to talk to anyone, and opened it to find Sarah smiling that smile she'd come to hate at her. "Uh, hi?" She said, Sarah being the least favourable option to answer the door to.

"Hey... can we talk? I want to apologise for earlier", Sarah tried her best to look apologetic. [Y/N] furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but stepped aside and widened the door to let her in.

"For lying and making me look bad?" [Y/N] asked, folding her arms and looking at Sarah as she walked into the room.

"Yeah... look, it's nothing personal, really. Just, girl to girl, I hoped you wouldn't mind making me look good to Sam".

"I'm pretty sure Sam already thinks you look good", [Y/N] said, that mixture of anxiety and jealously bubbling up inside her again.

"Well, I know he thinks I'm pretty", she giggled, flicking her hair back over her shoulder. "He's told me as much", she shrugged, and [Y/N] swallowed back some more jealousy and hurt. "I'm talking about like... intelligence. He's a smart guy, I just wanted to prove myself to him, show him that I'm not just a pretty face".

"And you're gonna prove to him that you're intelligent by lying to him, instead of actually doing the research? You know that this building has more information on lore than anywhere else in the world, right? It's literally right there in front of you".

"Okay, yeah, I get it, you're pissed off at me, and I understand why. It doesn't matter now anyway, he's taking me out to dinner tonight, so it worked. So, thanks for not saying anything back there!" She grinned at [Y/N] and spun around to walk out of the room, leaving [Y/N] staring after her. She knew she should've spoken up when Sarah had lied right in front of her, but she was so shocked at how confident she was. She had also been thinking about it while scrolling through her phone; surely Sam knew that [Y/N] wouldn't say anything about using holy water on vampires? If anything, she'd specifically say not to use it, like she had. Why didn't he say anything? He just believed Sarah? He just assumed [Y/N] didn't know how to hunt vampires, after all the hunts they'd gone on together? She walked over to her door and shut it. She didn't like the anger or jealously she was feeling, so she was going to distract herself with a movie or two. Unfortunately, all she could think about was how Sam had never invited her out for dinner before, not unless it was Dean's idea and he was going too.

***

She was halfway through her second movie when there was another knock on her door. The jealously hadn't exactly disappeared, and she felt a spark of it run through her when she imagined it was Sarah again, coming to gloat about her date with Sam. Sighing, she shut her laptop and rolled off the bed, before slowly opening her door. She felt a slight relief when she found Will on the other side. "Hey", he greeted happily.

"Hey, what's up?" [Y/N] asked, trying to hide her mood.

"Dean made burgers, he said they're your favourite and asked me to come get you".

"Oh, yeah okay, sounds good", she smiled at him as he stood back from the door to let her out. Dean's cooking was always a treat, and she figured she'd probably be less miserable with company than sitting alone in her room with her imagination. They started walking towards the kitchen when Will spoke again.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, by the way, and I think Owen is too".

"Oh really? Do you feel like you're ready?" She asked. She also wanted to ask if that meant Sarah was also leaving, but she knew she wouldn't have it that easy.

"No", Will laughed. "Not at all. I am beyond grateful for everything you and Sam and Dean have done for me these last few months, but I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not meant to be a hunter. I think I'm gonna go back to my day job and maybe just help out on research when needed".

"Yeah it's not for everyone", she smiled at him. "What about Owen?"

"I think he might want to keep it up, but just local stuff. I think he'll be going back to his job too". He looked at her and noticed she seemed distracted. "I don't know about Sarah, I haven't really had much time with her since we got here".

"Yeah, I'm not surprised", [Y/N] sighed just as they got to the kitchen. No one but Sam had spent much time with Sarah, she was focused on him, and only him.

"Hope you're hungry", Dean grinned as the two of them stepped into the kitchen. [Y/N] decided to push her thoughts of Sam and Sarah out on a date to the back of her mind, and to try and enjoy the evening.

***

[Y/N] only made it half way through her burger before she felt too nauseous to continue. Thoughts of Sam and Sarah enjoying their date, sharing a kiss, or holding hands kept pushing their way to the front of her mind. Her knee was bouncing up and down under the table and she was staring down at her plate. "Something wrong with it?" Dean asked and [Y/N] looked up at him, immediately embarrassed as she realised a tear had spilled from her eye. She quickly wiped it away with her sleeve and shook her head.

"No, it was great, I'm just not feeling well". She stood up from the table and turned away, ignoring Dean as he called after her, his voice full of concern. She quickly walked to her room and closed the door, falling down face first onto her bed. She hoped that her pillow would muffle her cry. She tried to ignore the knocking on her door. She didn't want Dean to see her like this, not when it was over something like jealously. Especially not when Sam was his brother and he would be on Sam's side no matter what.

"[Y/N], if you don't open the door in the next five seconds I'm coming in", he called out, and she took a shaky sigh. Dean always followed through on his threats. She sat up on her bed, legs dangling off the side, and wiped her eyes.

"You can come in", she said, looking down at her lap. She didn't look up as she heard her door open and close, and she listened as Dean walked over to her bed and sat down beside her. He nudged her with his elbow, his way of letting her know he was open to discussing emotions. When she didn't say anything, she heard him sigh and felt him nudge her again.

"You gonna make me say it?" He asked, looking down at her.

"Say what?"

"You're clearly upset about something, and I know it's nothing to do with my burgers. Spill".

"It's stupid".

"It's not if it's making you cry. Come one, did someone say something to you? Has someone hurt you?"

She shook her head as she wiped a tear away. "It's um... it's about Sam".

"Sam? You two okay? Have an argument or something?"

"No, nothing like that".

"Then what?"

She sighed, and finally looked up at him, and then he knew. He could tell by the hurt on her face.

"Ah", he said, nodding in understanding. "You should tell him".

"I can't, it's too late", she said, shaking her head, but he frowned at her.

"What do you mean? How is it too late?"

"He's on a date with Sarah", she sniffed, and Dean scoffed before chuckling. She furrowed her eyebrows at him. Why was he laughing when she was crying and he knew she was hurting? Was she right, that Dean would always take Sam's side? Did this mean she'd have to keep her distance from both of them? Possibly leave the bunker? Leave the team?

He looked down at her, noticing how she seemed to be somewhere else, her eyes staring off into the distance. He nudged her again to get her attention. "I can't tell you if he likes you back, but I would be very surprised if he didn't, you're a catch", he smiled. "What I can tell you, is that he's not on a date with Sarah".

"What?" She was feeling a bit overwhelmed by her thoughts, she wasn't sure she heard him properly.

"Sam's not out on a date".

"But Sarah said..." She trailed off, the confusion now increasing.

"I think I see what the issue here is. Did she tell you she was going on a date with Sam?" Dean asked and [Y/N] nodded. "Yeah... she may have misinterpreted that".

"Then where are they?"

"Sam and I had a little discussion the other day when I finally caught him alone. Neither of us can see any of the three of them as hunters, especially not Sarah. She's hopeless. She couldn't fight to save a fly, never mind herself or anyone with her. She's sloppy, and lazy too, she couldn't answer anything on lore when I quizzed her about it last week", he shook his head in disapproval. "She nearly stabbed Owen at practice today after you left. I yelled at her and Sam got so angry he left the room. I spoke with him after, he said she needed to go and that he wanted to be the one to tell her". [Y/N]'s eyes widened in surprise as she listened to him, maybe he hadn't believed her after all, maybe Sam was on her side.

"As for Owen and Will, they're not as bad as Sarah but they're not cut out for it either. I spoke to them after practice and they agreed to keep it as a side business. Sam's taken Sarah out to talk to her in private, telling her that she should stick to the day job and move back to her apartment. As much as I dislike the girl, we didn't want to embarass her in front of her friends, you know? They could actually take on a minor case here and there if they really wanted to. She shouldn't be anywhere near it".

"Oh", she said, the jealously and anxiety she'd been experiencing for the last few months finally dissipating slightly. "So, he doesn't like her?"

"Are you kidding? She's been following him around constantly since she got here, he can't wait for her to be gone". He smiled reassuringly at her, but she still looked upset. "She's not his type anyway", he added.

She scoffed quietly before rolling her eyes at him. "What, he doesn't like pretty girls?"

"Oh, he does, but Sammy needs intelligence too. Good thing you've got both". He grinned as he watched her blush and look down to her lap, and he felt like he'd done his job when he saw her smile. "Come on, Will and Owen have gone to pack up their things. I'll give you my second burger". He stood up and reached his hand out to her, and pulled her up.

***

Dean and [Y/N] were still in the kitchen, chatting when Sam arrived back. All hints that she'd been crying were now gone from her face as she laughed at one of Dean's childish jokes. "What's so funny?" Sam smiled as he walked over to them. He noticed [Y/N] look back to Dean, who stood up and shook his head at Sam.

"Nothing you'd get. I better go see if I have enough gas to drive everyone home", Dean said as he walked past Sam, patting his shoulder and smirking as he left the two of them alone.

"Hey", Sam said as he sat down opposite [Y/N].

"Hey", she said quietly back to him.

"I feel like I haven't seen much of you lately".

"Yeah, me too. How did your talk with Sarah go?" She asked, and he let out a long sigh, leaning back in his chair.

"I'll be glad to have my personal space back. She's packing up right now, they're leaving tonight. How do Owen and Will seem?"

"They don't really seem too bothered, I think they were close to giving up on it on their own anyway", she shrugged.

"Let's not volunteer to help out so quickly next time, what do you say?" Sam asked, and [Y/N] quickly nodded. "Did she get on your nerves too?"

"Yeah, I wasn't really comfortable around her".

"Hey, look", Sam leaned forward towards [Y/N] across the table. "I'm sorry I didn't call her out earlier when she threw you under the bus. I just thought it would be better to leave it up to you if you wanted to deal with it there or in private instead".

"It's okay", [Y/N] shook her head. "I thought you believed her though".

"Not for one second", Sam laughed. "God, she was annoying".

"I actually thought you liked her", [Y/N] shrugged.

"Really? I mean, sure, I thought she was attractive at first, but that personality... no, definitely not something I like", he shuddered, and she giggled. "I've missed that sound", he smiled at her and she immediately blushed, looking down at the table. "I've missed you".

"I've missed you too. You could've talked to me about it though, you know? If she was bothering you that much".

"I know, but I really didn't have any time to myself, she was everywhere I went", he sighed, his face falling. "I didn't want to be rude and tell her to leave me alone, and at the end of the day I just wanted to go to bed".

"Still", [Y/N] shrugged. "You know I'm always here for you. You can always talk to me about anything".

"Thank you. It's the same for you, if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here". When he smiled that genuine smile at her, Dean's opinion about her telling him how she felt came to the front of her mind. Taking a deep breath, she figured it was now or never. After how her body and mind had reacted to seeing Sam and Sarah together, how she felt when she thought they were on a date, she knew her feelings for Sam were real.

"There um, there is actually something I'd like to talk about".

"Yeah?" He raised his eyebrows. "Please, go ahead". He was paying full attention to her, and she felt nervous, but strangely comfortable too.

"I have feelings for you", she said, and he immediately grinned. "When I thought you wanted her... it physically hurt".

"Well that's a relief", he chuckled. "I uh, I have feelings for you too".

"Really?" She asked, sitting up straighter.

"Yeah, I have for awhile". Her heart skipped a beat when he stood up and walked around the table, holding his hand out to her. She took it and he immediately pulled her up out of her seat, pulling her close. He settled his hands on her waist and she looked up at him. He looked younger somehow up close, the years of hunting and living out of motel rooms less evident. Or maybe it was just his excitement shining through. She let her hands slide up his chest and onto his shoulders, smiling as his breathing got heavier at her touch. He lifted one hand to cup her cheek, gently stroking with his thumb and studying her face. "You're so beautiful", he breathed out. "I want you. I only want you".

She took a shaky breath, feeling overwhelmed, but now in a good way. "Sam?"

"Yeah Sweatheart?" The nickname stirred some butterflies in her stomach and she was sure he'd be able to hear her heart beating against her chest.

"Can you kiss me now?" As soon as the question left her lips, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. Her eyes fluttered closed and she grabbed the collar of his flannel to ground herself. Sam didn't pull back, breathing through his nose instead as he pushed his tongue into her mouth, meeting no resistance. Her hands found their way into his hair, pulling slightly and earning a moan from Sam. He turned his face to get a different angle, and hooked his hands under her thighs, pulling her up onto the table, lessening the height difference.

Finally, she pulled away and opened her eyes, finding Sam staring at her lips. They were both catching their breaths, and they smiled at each other. "Can I kiss you again?" He asked, and she nodded, but put her hands on his chest to stop him from leaning back in. He stared at her in confusion but she giggled and shook her head at him.

"I think we should go somewhere more private", she said, and Sam immediately nodded in agreement.

"My room?"

"Your room", she nodded, and squeaked when Sam lifted her, his hands firm under her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He walked her out towards the bedroom, and although he tried, he couldn't wait, and began kissing her neck as he carried her. Neither of them noticed Dean coming out of his room, and he didn't say anything as they walked past, but he was happy for both of them. He knew they'd be good for each other, and he'd always be on their team. He only hoped that the others were finished packing so they could all get out of the bunker before he heard any noises that he'd never be able to unhear.

The end

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx @livingdead-reilly @fuiabarcelos @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @kr804573

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